federal files
by wild wolf free17
Summary: Collection of unconnected drabbles. Crossovers, AU, gen, slash, and het.
1. think of tomorrow

**Title**: think of tomorrow

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: somewhat sad

**Pairings**: Peter/Neal-ish

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 270

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal/Peter, close your eyes

* * *

_Close your eyes_, he whispers, clutching Neal's hand tight in his. _Think about... one of those stores you always want to drag me to. You're there and you found the perfect hat, perfect jacket, perfect pants. June's waiting back at home with the perfect pot of coffee and El's said I can go with you._

_Sou-sounds wonderful,_ Neal gasps. _Is..._ He coughs, and Peter gently wipes away the blood that trickles over his lips. _Is the outfit for you?_ he forces out, opening his brilliant blue eyes.

_Yeah_, Peter tells him, and finally he hears the siren. _You're making me over_. He laughs, a bit desperately, and Neal's gaze is knowing, through the pain. _You stupid boy_, he mutters, leaning down to kiss Neal's forehead. _Why would you do that?_

Neal smiles up at him and says, _You gotta go home to El, Peter_. He coughs again and Peter looks around wildly for the ambulance. Seriously, where the fuck is it?

_Close your eyes, Peter_, Neal whispers. Looking back at Neal, hunching over him, he does.

It isn't a surprise when Neal kisses him. And it isn't a surprise when Neal's hand goes slack in his a moment later. It's still a punch in the gut and he presses down harder on the wound, screaming for the medics, howling for God.

God, the fucker, doesn't answer. But the EMTs do and Peter steps back uneasily, wanting to stay by Neal's side. He rides with Neal to the hospital.

When he finally calls El, he can't do more than sob into the phone.

She understands, and she sobs, too.


	2. the Judas lullaby

**Title**: the Judas lullaby

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU

**Pairings**: mentions of Kate/Neal, implied Peter/Neal

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 170

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Notes**: part of a longer 'verse that may never be completed, but stands alone fairly well

* * *

After the disastrous meeting with Peter, she runs. She flees the States and sheds that identity, becoming someone else far away.

Yes, Neal is sitting pretty on a pot of gold, but the payoff isn't worth the hassle. He may have loved her, but he sure didn't trust her and Peter's staked his claim, anyway. New York and Neal are both his. She effectively ceded any claim when she left, and she knew it then—four months before he got out, and he would have shared his millions with her had she but waited.

And now none of it is for her. Peter is a dangerous enemy and she can't beat him. Won't even try. She brought him into this with a tip about Neal—always a game, and Neal always won, until he didn't—and now she's been warned.

A single warning. That's how the masters play. A single warning—if unheeded, next a single strike.

She's had the warning, so she runs. America's gotten boring, anyway.


	3. not the time or place

**Title**: not the time or place

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: spoilers for both series

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 85

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Leverage/White Collar, Neal/Nate, back corner booth

* * *

"What've you been up to?" Neal asks, sipping the wine.

Nate raises an eyebrow. "You think I didn't notice you checking up on me, kid?"

Neal shrugs. "It's called small-talk, Nathan. You used to be good at it."

"Well, it hasn't been quite as high-profile as joining the FBI," Nate says, "but I've been keepin' busy."

"Good," Neal says quietly. "You've always needed something to do."

Nate smiles. "Stay on the straight and narrow, Neal. I'd hate to have to break you out of jail."


	4. gilded cage

**Title**: gilded cage

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: takes place early in season 1

**Rating**: PG

**Pairings**: none

**Wordcount**: 85

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal Caffrey, This is worse than prison

* * *

June's house is beautiful, and he can step onto the roof whenever he wants, feel the wind in his hair, go to the bathroom, wear nice clothes and a stylish hat, talk to people, eat food that tastes like food.

But it's still a cage, although exquisitely crafted. At least prison looked like what it was. But this, this… it's worse than prison. This is getting a small whiff of freedom, but knowing it's out of reach.

Every day, it's harder to stay.


	5. a bouquet of thorns

**Title**: a bouquet of thorns

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: thoughts of adultery

**Pairings**: thoughts of Peter/Neal, Neal/Elizabeth, Peter/Elizabeth/Neal

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 215

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Peter/Neal, no

* * *

Neal knows that he could have Peter. Peter's in love with Elizabeth, completely head over heels, the whole cliché, roses and sunsets and forever happily ever after. And she's not boring, nowhere near boring. She's delightful and inventive and funny and gorgeous. Neal loves her, too. She's that kind of girl.

But Neal knows that, despite everything, he could have Peter. If he really wanted. And he does really _really_ want. Peter is… Peter. Solid and loyal and kind and so damn sweet. Adorable, really. Him and El both.

Hell, Neal could have them both. That's what he does. He seduces. He pleasures. He takes. Makes people want him. Makes them think it's all their idea.

Peter wants him, he knows that. Peter's wanted him from the beginning, and Peter will never make the first move. That's up to Neal. Elizabeth… she wants him, too. Out of curiosity and lust and excitement.

It shouldn't be different from any other con, any other couple he's played with. But he doesn't… how… it's all so twisted, now. Confusing. He could have them both with barely any effort, and he aches with the wanting. A smile, a touch, a glance—so easy.

But he won't. They deserve better than him, and he will make sure they get it.


	6. with a feeling skill I paint my hell

**Title**: with a feeling skill I paint my hell

**Fandom**: White Collar/Chuck

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Sidney.

**Warnings**: pretend the timeline works

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 190

**Point** **of** **view**: third

* * *

There is a great deal about Neal Caffrey that Peter doesn't know. Some of it he has guessed, some refused to even consider, and some he'd never suspect.

Neal Caffrey has never been connected to Bryce Larkin even though they have the same face. They went their separate ways for college, and only they know their names from before then. Neither of them graduated highschool, but there is no record of that anywhere, either.

Bryce is a superspy and Neal an ex-con, and they've kept track of each other. Whenever Bryce has to lay low, he visits his twin and they switch in and out for a few days. It'd be easy as breathing to slip the tracker, but that's not the game.

And when Neal feels his brother's death, he leaves New York. He'll miss Peter and El and all the rest, and he doesn't even let Mozzie know he's going. Bryce kept weapons stashed all over the country and he made sure that Neal learned everything he did when it came to being dangerous.

Someone somewhere killed Neal's brother, for good this time. And someone somewhere will pay.


	7. cry, little sister

**Title**: cry, little sister

**Fandom**: Leverage/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: implied child abuse

**Pairings**: implied Peter/Neal

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 340

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Peter Burke & Parker, "It's okay, Parker. I know who you are, and I'm here to rescue you."

* * *

It was a job gone horribly, terribly wrong, and of course, Parker was there, that little girl from the last home he ever let the system put him in, the one he almost couldn't save.

He saw the earpiece get smashed, the last act she had strength for, and he kept up a steady stream of bullshit, throwing in the code for _now, Peter, come in now, I'm completely fucked, there's an innocent bystander bleeding out, Peter now Peter now now now_ in a dozen different ways.

He slid across the floor to try and help her, put pressure on the wound, keep her from bleeding out. "Hey, Parker," he murmured, ignoring the gunmen, their target's hired goons. If he had a gun of his own… but he didn't, he hated guns, he's just really good with them.

"Noah?" she gasped, eyes blinking at him before sliding away.

"Yeah," he whispered. There was so much blood…

He almost sobbed in relief when Peter yelled, "FBI! Freeze!"

And then Peter was beside him, voice gentle and hands firm, as he put pressure on Parker's wound, and he said, "Hello, Parker. I've heard a lot about you."

"Nate?" she asked, voice weaker than the last time she spoke.

"No," Peter answered as Neal demanded an ambulance from the phone he just picked out of Peter's pocket. "I'm Peter Burke. Don't worry, Parker, you'll be just fine. And we won't even book you this time, since you helped us."

"I-I did?" Her eyelashes kept fluttering shut and Neal grabbed her hand, staring at Peter, begging him to do something, anything, because—_Parker_.

"Yes, Parker," Peter said, eyes flicking to Neal before focused back on her. "You saved Neal's life. And we're going to save yours."

(Later, after she'd been stabilized and Neal could breathe again, he didn't mention the four people he knew didn't work for the hospital who kept visiting her. He suspected Peter knew that, too. And when she vanished as soon as was safe, Peter didn't look too hard.)


	8. family don't end with blood, boy

**Title**: family don't end with blood, boy

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: aftermath of getting shot

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 210

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal, Peter; Neal doesn't know _why_ he takes the bullet Peter, or why Peter's so upset he did.

* * *

He doesn't even think about it. Peter's back is to the third, previously unseen, gunman, and Neal is in the perfect place to jump between them.

So, without even thinking about it, he does.

And, no, _Peter_, he really _doesn't know_ why. He would've done it for Kate, and he'd do it for Mozzie, and more than likely, El and June, too. Maybe even Jones and Diana.

And Peter. He's never thought about it, _didn't_ think about it, but he'd clearly take a bullet for Peter.

_Fuck_, it hurts.

Peter whirls around, gun in hand, and the shooter falls and Peter's yelling and Diana has her hands on Neal's stomach and _it hurts so much._

He really hates gun. He'd forgotten how much this hurts, a bullet against flesh. Bullets always win.

He thinks Peter is still yelling. All the way until he thankfully blacks out, Peter shouts something about stupid kids and goddamned guns and kicking Neal's ass.

When he wakes up in the hospital, Peter is there, and El and Mozzie and June.

"Thank you, Neal," Peter says solemnly.

Then he starts shouting some more.

And no, Neal still isn't sure _why_ he took that bullet for Peter.

But he does know he'd do it again.


	9. the family business

**Title**: the family business

**Disclaimer**: Neal's not mine

**Warnings**: preseries

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 200

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal/author's choice, theft is a family tradition - Neal just raised it to an art form

* * *

In Neal's earliest memories, he calls himself by a dozen names. His father was a petty thief and his mother a grifter without much talent, and they traveled along the West Coast, conning and stealing and running.

At the time, he thought it a marvelous adventure. His father taught him to paint and his mother taught him to lie; he learned all the tricks of their trades, and his father's friend taught him to use a knife and a gun and his fists as weapons—_just in case, kiddo, there are dangerous folk in this world_.

His parents were small-time criminals, so the law never really went after them. They died when he was fifteen, a car accident. His father's friend took him in, and it was there that the boy who would one day be Neal Caffrey honed his talents.

He keeps with the family tradition, but he goes so much further, dreams so much bigger, and he catches the eye of the law.

His father taught him to paint and his mother taught him to lie, and he combines the two into an art form that few—if any—will ever surpass.

After all, his mother promised him the stars.


	10. sketching and hoping and wanting

**Title**: sketching and hoping and wanting

**Disclaimer**: Neal and Mozzie aren't mine

**Warnings**: sexual and child abuse

**Pairings**: OMC/Neal

**Rating**: PG13

**Wordcount**: 295

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal, how did he discover his talent for forgery?

* * *

In school, his favorite class was always art, followed closely by history. He didn't care about wars or inventions, unless they changed the culture of the time's art. He'd spend all day in the library, flipping through book after book of long-dead artists, captured and caught on their canvas.

He wanted to leave his mark on the world like that, to have people studying his paintings forever.

So he practiced, memorizing his favorites and recreating them flawlessly. It was his escape from his parents and bullies and never being good enough anywhere else, because he _could_ draw.

But when he tried to create an original piece, his imagination failed. His fingers couldn't craft on the page the beauty he saw in his mind.

For three months of his junior year, he didn't draw at all. His dreams moved further out of reach, and he stopped flipping through art history books.

And then one of his father's cousins turned up out of the blue to talk to his father, and slept in his room, and found one of his sketchbooks (the Monet one).

"You got talent, kid," his father's cousin said, hand warm and bruising on his thigh. "Remind me to talk to your dad when we're finished here."

He didn't graduate high-school because he was finally learning a trade, something he excelled at, and he nearly forgot in all the excitement and terror that he could only copy someone else's masterpiece instead of crafting his own.

(When Mozzie saved him from two-bit grifting and hooking for his father's cousin, he told Neal that one day, he would find his inspiration and paint something of his own, something original and beautiful.

He wants to believe Moz, but in fifteen years, it hasn't happened yet.)


	11. in the blood

**Title**: in the blood

**Disclaimer**: the older brother is mine

**Warnings**: spoilers for the basics of both shows

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 590

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Leverage/White Collar. Parker, Neal, any. Neal and Parker are brother and sister.

* * *

Once upon a time, not so long ago in a not so far away land, there lived two brothers and a sister. The eldest was a sad boy named Parker and his younger twin siblings were Noah and Bethany. Parker and Bethany both had sunshine-golden hair while Noah's was dark as midnight. They lived in fear, shunted from family to family, for many heartsick years.

Parker did his best to look out for the twins, but when he was twelve and they nine, the three of them were finally torn apart. A month later, a sad-eyed woman told the twins separately that Parker was dead.

After five years alone in the system, in different cities, Noah and Bethany took themselves out of it. She fell under the wing of a master-thief and renamed herself Parker in honor of her brother. Noah fell in with a sweet soul called Mozzie who made sure that Noah stayed safe no matter what harebrained scheme he tried.

Parker (the original) was a good boy. He believed in the law. But the law got him killed, so Parker (the girl) and Noah (who never used that name anymore) decided that the law wasn't for them anymore.

Years passed, a decade and change. Parker never got caught, no matter what she stole; she was a legend, a ghost, a name with no face or body. But Neal(once known as Noah) was arrested, tried, and sent to jail, even though there was proof of only a few crimes.

And there he stayed for almost four years, dreaming at night of things he never did, of jewels he never stole and buildings he never jumped from, and he heard laughter he remembered, and a little girl saying, _C'mon with me_.

Neal escaped and got caught again, put on a leash and ordered to heel. So now he broke the law _for_ the law, his keeper a good man named Peter. Neal thought that if Peter had been their caseworker back then, he and his siblings would have stayed together.

From him, there was no higher praise.

Neal and Elizabeth, Peter's lovely wife, were at a gallery opening when a laughing blonde on the arm of a tall black man caught Neal's eye. Her sunshine-golden hair glinted in the light, and her eyes were familiar when they met his.

The blonde rushed across the room, sliding through the crowd like quicksilver, her companion following with a bit-off curse.

Neal left Elizabeth with no warning, slipping through the crowd like a breeze, and met her at the door.

"Bethany," he whispered, wanting so badly to touch her, to hold her, to assure himself this wasn't a dream.

"Noah," she murmured, longing her voice.

A moment of looking, studying each other's adult features, and seeing their brother's ghost, and then they were wrapped around each other, nine years old again as the world fell away.

Nothing else mattered. Later they would talk and laugh and cry. Later they would pick pockets and share alleged crimes. Later Peter wouldn't arrest Neal's twin and Elizabeth would invite a team of thieves to her house for dinner.

Later, two master criminals would curl up together and whisper stories about a wonderful boy named Parker, the best big brother in the world.

But for now, Neal and Parker (the thief) just gripped each other tight and stood in silence, while Elizabeth and Hardison made sure no one bothered them.

And when they pulled back slightly, they shared small smiles and said, _I missed you_.


	12. between longing and let go

**Title**: between longing and let go

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Betsy Sholl

**Warnings**: underage non-con, prison rape

**Pairings**: OMCs/Neal, Peter/Neal

**Rating**: R

**Wordcount**: 580

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Peter/Neal, Someone makes a crack about Peter being Neal's father; which does not go down well seeing as Neal's father was an abusive ass and Neal is sleeping with Peter.

* * *

He still wakes up trembling sometimes. He'd buried it before prison, with Kate and Moz and the perfect facade of Neal Caffrey, but prison tore it wide open and made everything bleed again.

They called him _Caffrey_ in prison, and called him hundreds of other things, and touched him and fucked him, and he bled so very much...

But he's out now, he's with Moz again, and trying to find Kate (he knows they're done, knows she got whatever she wanted, knows she was never what he thought), and Peter, _Peter_—

Peter put him in prison. Peter locked him there and never checked on him. Neal thought about escaping every day, but he deserved to be punished (for a million things, tiny crimes that didn't hurt anyone, all those people he's never seen who did get hurt by whatever he did, and for-for-no, no, not thinking about it) he deserved to be punished, so he stayed in prison until Kate left, and then Peter caught him again.

And he has Peter now, Peter who is gentle or rough depending on what Neal asks for, because he gives Neal a choice, and if it aches every time Peter calls him _Neal_ or_Caffrey_, well. What else should Peter call him? Peter knows a dozen fake names and thinks Neal Caffrey is the true one.

He's not _boy_ in Peter's bed, or anything else he got called in prison.

Best of all, he's not _son_.

But this guy, this guy, Peter's mentor, he doesn't know. He's a good guy, and Peter loves him, but he doesn't know. And he says, _So, you adoptin' stray convicts now, Pete?_ and he's laughing, clapping Peter on the back, and he says, _Gonna name him Neal Burke?_ and Peter's smiling at him, at this old man who doesn't know, and he says, _Could do worse than Pete here for a new dad, Caffrey_, and Neal…

Bolts. Out the office, down the stairs three at a time, through the doors to the emergency exit, and is gone.

He doesn't cut the anklet.

He's five years old and Daddy's angry, screaming about whores who spread their legs for anyone, and he's hungry and he's thirsty and Mama's not moving, and Daddy turns to him.

He's eight and Daddy's friend is back again. He doesn't even cry anymore.

He's twelve and the bastard's friend has a gun, and he's done with this, he's done with the pain and the blood and the _fear_, and he hasn't fought in so long no one expects it when he does.

He's fourteen and the streets aren't kind to boys as beautiful as he is, but this guy, this short and rambly guy, he's different. So he goes home with the guy, and the guy doesn't fuck him, and no one else fucks him without consent until he's tossed into prison.

He's twenty-eight and he's Neal Caffrey, and he's wedged into a closet in Peter Burke's house. And Satchmo is whining at his feet, and Elizabeth is sitting out in the hall, just talking, and Peter's crouched in the doorway, hand in the air, waiting for Neal's move.

So Neal takes a deep breath, and he says, _You're not my father_.

Peter smiles at him and says, _I'm not_.

Neal nods. _You're a good man_, Neal says. _Like Moz. You both saved me_.

He doesn't mention prison. He closes his eyes, clutches Peter's hand, and shoves everything back into the box, locks it away tight, and breathes.


	13. if only

**Title**: if only

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: preseries

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 200

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal, how did he discover his talent for forgery?

* * *

In highschool, Neal took art every year. He practically lived in the public library, breathing in the books that showed long-dead artists and their masterpieces. He copied his favorites into dozens of sketchbooks, working up to crafting something beautiful and unique and _his own_. Something so wonderful he'd be famous and rich and remembered forever, and one day, students would study him.

And when he finally thought he was ready, he sat down in the library, pencil in hand. He had an idea: he could see it in his mind, a black and white portrait of his grandmother, something to make Mom smile when she cried at night because Gran died seven months ago.

But though he could paint flawless recreations of the paintings in books, his fingers couldn't sketch out what he wanted them to, what he saw in his imagination.

Mom died halfway through his senior year. Even though he wasn't eighteen, he left town, searching for something. He'd know it when he found it.

(When Mozzie came across the kid hitching his way to New York, he offered him a ride. And when he realized that the kid could draw, he offered him a job.)


	14. reactions

**Title**: reactions

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: early in the series

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 65

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Peter, why is it always Neal's undercover ops that go wrong like this?

There were never so many calamities before Neal Caffrey joined the team. Peter chose the white collar division for a reason, and that was to avoid the violence inherent in crime.

Neal seems to draw out the explosive reactions from criminals, and Peter's not sure exactly why, but… he'll keep saving the kid, and not just because he's the good guy and that's what good guys do.


	15. trigger

**Title**: trigger

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: spoilers for the fact that Neal knows how to use a gun

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 200

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Peter/Neal, Peter's the only reason Neal would ever pick up a gun

* * *

Everyone who's anyone knows that Neal Caffrey doesn't like guns. Most people don't know, though, that he's really good with them. He wasn't always Neal Caffrey, and all those records? Burnt. No evidence anywhere before Neal Caffrey.

But that's not what's important right now. What's important is this:

Peter, barely conscious and demanding Neal leave him behind; the anklet, cut and left back at the meeting point; their witness who turned out to be the bad guy, wanting Neal to work for him and not caring who gets killed or hurt in the process.

And Peter's gun, on the floor at Neal's feet.

But Neal Caffrey doesn't like guns, and the bad guy hasn't even glanced at it since he knocked it from Peter's hand.

Peter knows Neal can use a gun. But Peter's about to black-out and the bad guy won't shut up, and Peter needs help. Right now.

Six goons, the head honcho, a downed FBI agent, and an ex-con consultant without a documented past.

And a gun, fully loaded, and no back-up on the way.

Yeah. Neal hates guns, but he's really goddamned good with them.

Everyone leaves that warehouse alive, but only two people are happy about it.


	16. breathing mirrors

**Title**: breathing mirrors

**Fandom**: Chuck/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: spoilers for up to season 2 of "Chuck"

**Pairings**: a smidge of could-be Peter/Neal and Bryce/Chuck

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 330

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Bryce and Neal both get the gift of a second chance at life. They decide to use it as a second chance at being brothers as well.

* * *

Noah and Brendan Lafferty were born in September, but which day only they know. Those records (actually, any records before Neal Caffrey and Bryce Larkin) are lost. They'll never be found because they were destroyed utterly. No one remembers Noah and Brendan Lafferty.

Bryce Larkin is declared dead, all evidence of him erased, and his body reported as incinerated. It's not his first death, though, and it doesn't take any more than the others have. The only thing he regrets leaving behind is Chuck, but Chuck has Sarah now.

Neal Caffrey spends almost four years in jail before escaping twice. The second one takes and he's suddenly working for the man who imprisoned him. They actually get to be pretty good friends. Neal sometimes thinks he could fall in love Peter, and it'd be easy to do.

When Brendan shows up inside Noah's apartment, it's like seeing a ghost. They haven't stood face-to-face in almost fifteen years and a great deal has changed since then. Neither of them is who they were, that day Brendan became Bryce and Noah became Neal.

They smile at each other, talk about the world and where they've been, and sit at Noah's table. Noah pulls out the leftovers from dinner and asks what Brendan plans to do now.

Brendan shrugs. "Bryce Larkin is dead, for good this time."

Noah nods. "I'm not quite ready to move on yet," he says. "You can stay if you want." He pauses, meeting Brendan's eyes. "Or we can go somewhere. Do anything."

Brendan smiles. "I think Neal Caffrey has a brother," he muses, twirling spaghetti with his fork. "Isn't his name Brent?"

Neal chuckles. "You know, I believe you're right."

When Neal knocks on Peter's door the next morning, there's a breathing mirror standing next to him and Peter's got two of them to deal with.

Neal and Brent can't stop smiling because the world is new and bright, and they've both got second chances.


	17. forbidden

**Title**: forbidden

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: takes place early in the series

**Pairings**: implied Peter/Neal

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 85

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Jones/any, off limits

* * *

Caffrey flirts with anyone and everyone, and he never really means anything by it, Clinton knows that.

Caffrey is smart, and beautiful in the way of classic sculpture, and he uses everything to his advantage, and when he smiles at Clinton, it's his flirt smile, and it doesn't mean anything, and Clinton _knows_ that, he really does.

So Clinton tries to ignore it, to forget it, and when Burke places a hand on Caffrey's shoulder, well, he already knew Caffrey was off-limits, anyway.


	18. the greatest game

**Title**: the greatest game

**Fandom**: White Collar/Supernatural

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: spoilers for 6.2 of Supernatural

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 165

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal +or/ any, Neal is a shapeshifter

* * *

He drops the child off at one of his safe-houses, in care of his oldest daughter; she smiles as she takes the infant, assuring him that the others are all accounted for and sleeping.

He only stays a few minutes, and as he goes, he calls in a long-owed favor—his brother answers immediately, and his concerns of safety are alleviated as what the hunters would term the werewolf king sends his strongest pack to guard the property.

Dawn will come soon and he is four states away from New York. For a moment he ponders abandoning the identity, but so much effort has been put into it already, almost three decades worth.

It is an hour before he is in his apartment, and one of his oldest friends smiles as she passes him on the stairs; in silence he cancels the spell on his anklet, shifts his face to that of Neal Caffrey, and, as the sun rises, smiles at the mirror.


	19. ambrosia

**Title**: ambrosia

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: schoomp

**Pairings**: pre-Peter/Neal/Elizabeth

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 260

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Peter/Neal, strawberry cheesecake milkshake

* * *

Peter, when he's not being forgetful, is very thoughtful. He doesn't always remember dates—just ask El—but he does remember favorites. The icecream she loves best, for example, or the song that always makes her smile, or the movie that has her laughing for hours.

When he was chasing Caffrey, before Caffrey became Neal, he learned everything there was to know. And most of that information hasn't changed.

Neal is stuck in a meeting, for a case Peter's team isn't working. The lead for that case, though, knows that Neal is Peter's, and there had better not be a repeat of the Rice fiasco.

Peter goes to lunch with El. They talk about what's playing at the local theater, about Satchmo's latest girlfriend—a sweet cocker spaniel from down the street—and about Neal. She knows almost everything Peter does about their ex-con, and she has a perspective that helps him understand Neal sometimes.

Elizabeth orders a piece of cheesecake for dessert and they share it; El eats the crust but lets Peter have the fluff that came on top of the slice.

The first time Peter ever saw Caffrey's face, it was as he fled the scene of a con that barely had time to get off the ground. He even left his half-finished milkshake languishing on the counter.

Peter smiles, flicking through the dessert menu, and when he returns to the office, he hands off a strawberry cheesecake milkshake to Neal.

Neal grins up at him, a real grin, and Peter can't stop smiling.


	20. a hat or not a hat

**Title**: a hat or not a hat

**Fandom**: White Collar/Chuck

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU for Chuck

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 145

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar/Chuck, Twins! Neal & Bryce + their teams, FBI and CIA (and NSA) join forces to uncover an arms dealer working behind the scenes of an art show

* * *

The order came down from someone a few rungs higher than Hughes on the ladder, and Neal wasn't allowed to say no.

What worried Peter was that after learning the CIA was heavily involved, Neal quit fussing about it. In fact, he spent most of the two days leading up to the meeting _grinning_. He didn't stop, that Peter saw.

Not a good sign. For anyone.

"We're waiting for our last agent," the spokesperson for the CIA said, while two other agents set up their laptops.

Peter shot a quick glance around, about ready to track Neal down and drag him to the conference room. Then, Neal walked in, holding his hat in his hands. And another Neal followed him.

Peter blinked, looked away, and looked back. Yep, still two Neals.

The CIA lady said, "_Bryce_." The Neal without a hat chuckled.

Neal just kept on smirking.


	21. ships in the night

**Title**: ships in the night

**Fandom**: White Collar/Supernatural

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: none

**Pairings**: maybe some implied Dean/Neal

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 175

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal/Dean, never try to con a conman

* * *

Not many people have the strength of will or character to lie to Peter's face, and keep on lying after he catches on, eyes shining with the smirk he doesn't let twist his lips, but this guy, damn, he's good.

And maybe if Peter hadn't seen the grin he'd shared with Neal when he sauntered into the gallery, he'd have been fooled. Not for long, but he's honest enough with himself to admit that, yeah, this guy might have gotten past him.

Neal knows he's watching, and he's pretty sure Johnny Jones, out of the Houston office, knows, too, as they chat about what seems innocent, on the surface, but the surface means nothing with Neal, because even the shallows are rife with half-truths, bald-faced lies, and things that might be true, if bent, shaken, and stirred.

And the next morning, as Neal swears he _knew nothing about any jobs in the works, everything was hypothetical, trust me, and, anyway, it was an ugly vase with a __**curse**__, Peter_, Peter just rolls his eyes.


	22. sculpting

**Title**: sculpting

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: set during season 2

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 130

**Point** **of** view: third

**Prompt**: Neal & Diana, friendship.

* * *

It is very easy to like Neal Caffrey. He's charming and sweet, funny and brilliant—quite brilliant, in fact, and though he throws on mask after mask, she can see that his life hasn't been charmed, that his childhood was not all sunshine and roses, beautiful and wonderful, that he was not a beloved son.

Peter complains about how Neal treats life like it's a game, that the world twists itself to suit Neal's whims, but she can tell he sees past the masks, too. So few do.

It's easy to like Neal Caffrey, but not to know him, and Diana doesn't want the mask; she wants to speak to _Neal_, to that little boy he hides, to who he is beneath the beautiful veneer, to the man Peter calls friend.


	23. a mask worn too long

**Title**: a mask worn too long

**Fandom**: Chuck/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU for Chuck

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 295

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Chuck/White Collar, Chuck/Sarah/(Neal), Peter doesn't trust 'Mr and Mrs Charles', no matter how much they seem to care for Neal.

* * *

They say their names are Chester 'Chuck' and Sarafina Charles. They're good, but Peter's run enough ops to know undercover when he sees it.

And Neal, after his immediate reaction of _joy_ quickly stifles it for the professional courtesy of an art consultant meeting the victims of art theft.

But the damage is done, because that first reaction sticks in his mind.

Chuck is like a puppy, bounding after Neal everywhere he goes in the gallery. Sara stays with Peter, telling him the details, but her eyes follow Neal with well-hidden longing.

Peter gets them out of there as quickly as possible. He wants to demand answers, to command that Neal tell him everything because there is some backstory he's not privy to and it's annoying the shit out of him. But he keeps quiet because there's a look on Neal's face he's never seen before, not for Kate or Alex or any other piece of his past that Peter's learned about. This is something new.

It's only after Neal's out of the car and headed up to his loft at June's that Peter realizes the look on Neal's face was very similar to the one he wore when he went undercover as a hitman. He says he hates guns, that he's always hated guns, but the way he used them… his hands didn't even seem to need his mind. And the way he acted when he went after Fowler—that wasn't the Neal Caffrey Peter chased for three years, or the Neal Caffrey he's worked with for the past two.

He wonders which Neal Caffrey just went upstairs to his loft, and which one he'll drive to work tomorrow.

And Peter hopes, fervently, that they won't have to deal with Chuck and Sara Charles again.


	24. strands of a web

**Title**: strands of a web

**Fandom**: Leverage/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: vague spoilers for Leverage?

**Pairings**: Peter/Elizabeth

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 425

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Leverage/White Collar, Neal, Peter, Leverage Team, "You knew they were working a con, and you didn't stop them?" "Nope." "Why not, Peter?"

* * *

Fifteen years ago, when Peter was in Russia for his first deep-cover case, when he was about to get shot in the head after being made, a young guy burst through the door, killed all the enemy, and helped Peter to his feet. The kid was bleeding, swaying in place, and spoke Russian fluently, though his words were slurring together and Peter could barely understand him.

They helped each other to the nearest phone and Peter didn't report that anyone else was involved, even though the kid didn't ask him to.

o0o

Eleven years ago, Peter mentored a punk kid through a community program. That kid was probably the smartest person he ever met, except El and later Neal. He tried to teach the kid why the law was important, but he's pretty sure the kid only learned how to break it.

o0o

Nine years ago, Peter busted a corrupt general after three of his subordinates reported various inconsistencies in his finances. It should have been an internal investigation on the military's part, but an outside party also had some interesting intel.

Elizabeth's cousin Portia thanked Peter for his time, trying to keep the bruised half of her face away from him. Peter told her that she was still beautiful and had done the right thing.

o0o

Eight-and-a-half years ago, Peter grabbed the wrist reaching into his pocket. He turned to glare down at a tiny blonde woman. She glared right back, jerking away. He let her go and, making sure his wallet was still place with all his cards and cash, asked her if she wanted to get a meal with him.

After a long moment, she asked what was in it for him.

He said his wife wouldn't be happy if he were impolite simply because someone tried to rob him.

She laughed and said she'd like to meet his wife.

That afternoon, he had lunch with two beautiful ladies and El made a new friend.

o0o

Four years ago, Peter's step-brother's cousin's son died. Peter went to the funeral and watched a man he'd always respected fall apart.

o0o

Peter heard about Nate Ford's team, a band of thieves that did what the law couldn't, that stepped in where the law failed.

And when they got involved in one of Peter's cases, he knew what he wanted to do, but not what he should.

He asked El. She told him she'd already invited Portia and Parker to supper, and she wanted to meet his little brother.

When Neal asked why he didn't bust Nate Ford's team, Peter shrugged.


	25. change on the wind

**Title**: change on the wind

**Fandom**: White Collar/mythology

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: blasphemy for more than one religion?

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 290

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Neil, like a former god

* * *

He is not the oldest, nowhere near that primordial age, and while he is not the weakest, he is also not the strongest.

He never belonged to any one pantheon; he preferred to travel, to live amongst the humans and explore the world instead of lording above it. Because of that, he has a name in every culture and a legend in each country.

He is the god of trickery and change, of acting and playing, of the tale and stage and movie-reel. He is the god of lying and painting, of dancing and singing. He is the god of fun.

He has lived a thousand lives, been a man and woman, a coyote and a fox, a raven and a mockingbird, a dolphin and a clownfish. He has annoyed all the great gods, from Zeus and Odin to Vishnu and Yahweh and Quetzalcoatl. He even danced with Kali once.

While he wears a shape, he locks away anything that is unnatural to that shape. So he did not have to die as a coyote, but allowed himself to. It'd be cheating to do anything else.

And he does not have to stay in New York, shackled like a pup, tethered by a tracking anklet. He did not have to stay in prison, or escape like any other criminal. He is unlike every other criminal in the annals of history. He is the greatest criminal, the first thief, the supreme con-man.

He is Coyote, and all the world is his territory.

But in this life, he' s Neal Caffrey. And Neal Caffrey belongs in New York, to Peter Burke. This game with Peter is the most fun he's had in three lives, so he will see it through to the end.


	26. For years I told this story all wrong

**Title**: For years I told this story all wrong

**Fandom**: White Collar/Chuck

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Betsy Sholl

**Warnings**: spoilers for Chuck season 2

**Pairings**: one-sided Bryce/Chuck, pre-Peter/Bryce!Neal

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 250

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Chuck/White Collar, Bryce!Neal, he'd really only ever had one best friend

* * *

It shocked everyone back home when that pretty little trailer slut made it into Stanford. His grades were subpar, except for math, but he tested exceptionally well. And if a few changes were made to various records, no one really needed to know, right?

Bryce Larkin changed everything about himself when he went to Stanford, including his name. Bryce Larkin didn't exist before Stanford, and he wouldn't exist after. And he really only regretted one thing about the whole CIA/Fulcrum/ Ring business, and that was leaving Chuck behind.

Chuck liked Bryce for his geekiness and his smarts and the self-defense lessons that Chuck never mastered at all and that Bryce taught himself Klingon simply because Chuck wanted a thing just for them.

And then Bryce stabbed Chuck in the back, for his own good, though Chuck didn't know it at the time.

But Stanford is gone, and Bryce Larkin is dead, and Neal Caffrey only served a year of his time, though records will say otherwise. Maintaining two lives parallel to each other is supremely difficult, and without Kate's help he couldn't have done it. He really did love her, but he also used to wish, while holding her or kissing her or planning with her, that she was taller and stronger and spoke Klingon.

And now that he's Neal Caffrey full time—unless told otherwise by the FBI—he has Peter. And he could come to love Peter, given time.

But Peter will never be Chuck.


	27. two of a kind

**Title**: two of a kind

**Fandom**: White Collar/Psych

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: none

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 105

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar/Psych, Peter/Neal & Shawn/Lassiter, similar boyfriends

* * *

"Peter seems like a lot of fun," Shawn says to Neal, while handing over some of Neal's money for their pineapple smoothies.

Neal grins, snatching some cash from Shawn's pocket to replace the funds. "About as much fun as your guard-dog over there, Shawnie."

Peter keeps his eyes on Shawn and Neal; Lassiter's gaze rotates between all entrances and exits.

And Gus just sighs, knowing that no matter how careful the good lawmen were, Neal and Shawn will wreak some havoc and he—like always—will have to clean up the mess.

He really hates it when any buddy from Shawn's travels shows up.


	28. the only wonders of the world

**Title**: the only wonders of the world

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Maya Angelou

**Warnings**: AUish, maybe; mentions of child abuse

**Pairings**: Peter/Neal/Elizabeth

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 420

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal, Peter, & Elizabeth, Peter doesn't understand their need for extravagant things

* * *

Peter had both parents, a dog, a cat, an older sister, and a younger brother. He had a fenced-in backyard, a bicycle, school during the week, and a job mowing lawns on the weekend for extra cash.

They were happily upper middle-class, with enough money for vacations to national parks and the beach every year. He dressed well, was popular, and succeeded in everything he tried with the knowledge that if he fell, his parents would catch him and set him back on his feet.

He has never doubted that he'd get a happy ending.

o0o

Elizabeth had no father and an older brother. Her mother worked two jobs, her brother dropped out of school to look for employment, and Elizabeth graduated at the top of her class through sheer determination and force of will. She had hand-me-downs and food-stamps, and then she went to her brother's funeral when his first attempt at selling drugs ended badly.

A year later, her mother died in a home-invasion turned disaster and Elizabeth moved to New York for college on a scholarship.

Her mother and brother had always told her to aim for the moon because she deserved it. She was the best of them, the smartest and brightest. She could succeed at anything she tried.

Elizabeth thought for a long time she wouldn't get a happy ending.

o0o

Neal had foster parents and foster siblings, cruel classmates, and a world that told him he'd never be anything because he came from no-name parents and nothing. The only thing he could ever claim as his own was his name—he chose _Neal_ when he was seven.

He listened to everything they said, took all the abuse they dished out, and ignored it. He survived it. He didn't graduate only because he moved on, left that life at fifteen and never looked back.

And he decided, the first time he was beaten and left for dead, that he would rise above this, become something better and stronger, become untouchable and powerful and _live_.

Neal knew that to get a happy ending, he would have to steal it.

o0o

Peter doesn't understand the value El places in pretty things, or the way Neal pampers himself with all the best of everything. He's never known want.

But he loves them, and El deserves all she desires, and Neal has this smile, when he's surprised with presents, and Peter wants them to be happy.

Lying in bed with Neal on one side and El on the other, Peter knows this is their happy ending.


	29. dreams in a new year

**Title**: dreams in a new year

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: pre-series

**Pairings**: Neal/Kate

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 125

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal/Kate, happiness.

* * *

They're sitting on the hood of a legally-rented car, neither too boring nor too flashy, sharing a to-go mug of hot chocolate and watching the sun set across the Grand Canyon. In just a handful of hours it will be a new year and they've pulled off their most successful scam yet.

Neal knows that they can do this forever, him and Kate. They can do anything, everything, take the world and make it theirs, every dream a scared kid barely dared hope.

Him and Kate, together forever, nothing out of reach or too far.

She rests her head on his shoulder and says, "I want to paint a sunrise onto you."

He kisses the top of her head and replies, "Sounds good to me."


	30. I saw pale kings, and princes too

**Title**: I saw pale kings, and princes too

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Keats

**Warnings**: AU

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 205

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Chuck/White Collar, Neal +or/ Bryce, it's impossible to tell which is the worst influence

* * *

Between the two of them, they've broken every law involving weapons or theft. Neal thinks he's the better twin, though, because he's never killed.

Bryce says he is, because he was only ever caught after he was dead.

Neal just gives him a pout for bringing up that horrible event again, and Bryce promises to take him to the Louvre later in the week.

Peter bursts in at that moment, Chuck on his heels, and they receive the same innocent expressions, blue eyes wide and pure as the sky.

Peter's glare is ferocious, but there's a hint of laughter at the corners of his mouth, and Chuck's babbling about Neal's successful and varied career. When Peter glances back at him, brow raised, Chuck quiets instantly.

Bryce huffs a small laugh and Neal ducks his head, smothering a grin. There won't be any Louvre in the near future, but they will sneak out to the Metropolitan Museum of Art later, while Chuck (and possibly Casey) distract Peter, and for the first time in a long time, they'll actually act like the brothers they used to be, back when they only played at being dangerous and Neal dreamed of being famous and Bryce thought about saving the world.


	31. gunpowder and steel

**Title**: gunpowder and steel

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AUish

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 42

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Any (but SPN); Any(/any); I'll tell you a secret no one else dare speak

* * *

There is far more to Neal Caffrey than even Peter knows.

Just why he hates guns, for instance. But Neal adores knives, with their blades and sharp edges, with how crimson sticks and stains , and _burns_-

But Peter doesn't know that.


	32. I feel like the neighbor's girl

**Title**: I feel like the neighbor's girl, who will never be the same

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Dar Williams

**Warnings**: future!fic

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 345

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Peter/Neal, Painting is just another way of keeping a diary.

* * *

Neal has never kept a journal in words. It'd be too easy for someone to find it, read it, and have him at a disadvantage. And after the FBI caught him and tore through everything he had, he was glad he'd never written anything down.

But he has sketchbooks. Dozens of them. Each page is unique, even the ones that have the same subject. He's never had the creativity to paint his own works, but sketches... those, he's always drawn in abundance. Anything he wants, that catches his fancy, that whispers _create me_.

One sketchbook is Kate, one Mozzie, one the people who donated DNA to him, one of Paris and Rome and New York. One of places he wants to go, places he'll never go again, places he's visited and loved.

The FBI, he knows, has looked through them all. They're in an evidence lock-up somewhere, and he could probably get them back. He's been a good little pet-thief, has followed the rules (mostly), and he's more than repaid his debt to society by catching people who are far worse than him.

But all of those sketchbooks, they were drawn by a man who no longer exists. A man who was caught and kept in a cage.

And he may be leashed now, but he'll be released soon. And all the things he's sketched since convincing Peter to give him a chance... then they'll be the works of man who no longer existed. A man who grew, who changed, who became someone new.

Because he won't be leashed anymore. He'll be free to go anywhere, to do anything. And he'll know how to escape the FBI, all their tricks, all their secrets. He could be the greatest criminal in history.

And sitting on June's roof, a sketchbook across his lap and pencil in hand, watching New York, he thinks about what he wants. This man he is now, the man he'll be next week when the shackle around his ankle is unlocked—what does he want?

And he puts the pencil to paper.


	33. They were of fame, and had been glorious

**Title**: They were of fame, and had been glorious in another day

**Fandom**: White Collar/Leverage

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Byron

**Warnings**: pre-series for both; spoilers for season 1 of both

**Pairings**: gennish

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 325

**Point of view**: third

**Prompts**: White Collar/Leverage; Eliot/Neal; A year into his prison sentence, Neal gets his first letter; White Collar/Leverage; Neal/Eliot; A year after Neal started working for the FBI, he gets another letter

* * *

The front of the postcard is a fairly boring painting, a pastoral landscape that isn't even worth the cost of the brushes that painted it. There is no name, no return address beyond the city printed on the upper corner of the back.

The words are scrawled messily, barely discernable, but it is handwriting Neal learned how to read long ago.

_Thinking of you, kid. Wish you'd done a better job of not getting caught. Took care of some business in Europe._

_Tell Morrison he still owes me._

_See you when you get out._

Neal studies that second-to-last with a smirk. One mystery solved.

He'd been wondering why everyone gave him a wide berth.

o0o

He's been looking over his shoulder since the day he left prison (the first time), wondering when Eliot will clap him on the shoulder and spin him around and either kiss him or hit him. It could go either way, really.

But Eliot wasn't there when he got out. Hasn't stopped by. Peter hasn't mentioned Eliot yet, which means he's gotten better at slipping beneath the radar.

But he gets home from work one day, a year since he conned his way out of his cage, and June says, "You received a postcard today, dear."

The front is as horrible as the last one. If possible, worse. Such a _boring_ image, no life, no beauty. He wants to paint Eliot something gorgeous, show him how it's done, but Eliot's never appreciated art.

This time, the words on the back are shaky, like the fingers that wrote them were barely conscious. Neal's annoyance shifts to worry.

_Hey, kid, thinking of you._

_I've had a couple problems, nothing to worry about. Just some enemies I can't shake._

_I got a team now, though. And I know what you've been up to. We're still on the same side._

_I'll be by later._

_Tell June she doesn't need to watch out for the Butcher anymore._

Neal glances up at June. She simply smiles.


	34. sleeping steel

**Title**: sleeping steel

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: future!fic; AU (shades of Dark Angel)

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**:190

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal + Peter + Diana + Jones, they're in a situation where Neal has to fight their way out; no one expects that he can because he's... well, Neal, but he totally kicks ass

* * *

So, Diana has a gun pointed at the boss of the bad guys and Peter's trying to hold Jones' guts in his body, and Neal's been disregarded by, oh, _everybody_. Peter's gun is on the ground at a goon's foot and all of Diana's attention is on the guy she's about to kill, but Neal knows she has a knife strapped to her thigh. He's got one on his back, and another along his side.

He's tried so hard to forget the time before Moz rescued him. He's tried so hard to be a gentleman.

But they're alone here. They're alone and no back-up is coming and Jones is about to die, and then Diana and Peter, and they're his team. Them and Moz and El and June.

More than that... they're his _family_.

So he lets the door in his mind open, the one that has him carry knives everywhere he goes—easier than guns, sharp and quick and silent—and he _moves_.

Neal never forgets anything. And whether they're targets sanctioned by the men who made him or a crimelord and his security, they all die the same.


	35. Love was more than just a word

**Title**: Love was more than just a word

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Deanna Carter

**Warnings**: future!fic

**Pairings**: pre-Peter/Neal/Elizabeth

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 340

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Any but SPN, any, "This is my soul, in paper and ink; see it stain your fingers, now tell me what you think."

* * *

Elizabeth pushed Peter to invite Neal over for Christmas Eve and morning that first year. June was visiting with family and Mozzie apparently had an annual pilgrimage that he made every year, so Neal would've been alone. And while Peter _had _wanted to invite him, until El gave the order, he'd felt hesitant to do it. No one except El had ever had such power over him, and to realize that he was so drawn to not only a criminal, but a _male _one…

He'd needed to have many talks with Elizabeth, but finally, he realized that it was okay to care for Neal. Now, he only had to let Neal know, which wouldn't happen until after the anklet was off and Neal had chosen to stay.

So four Christmases in a row, Peter and Elizabeth had Neal over. They exchanged presents and watched _A Christmas Story_ and drank eggnog. And it felt right, so very right, except that Neal still held himself slightly away from them. Elizabeth and Peter both pretended to ignore the longing on his face as he watched them cuddle and whisper into each other's ear.

And then came the fifth Christmas, when Neal was a free man. The day after, he'd vanished from New York, though every week the Burkes got a postcard in the mail. Neal had spent weeks on the road, from London to Tokyo, and then he came home in time for Christmas.

He smiled at them both, gave Satchmo a quick ear scratch, and held out two packages. "Merry Christmas," he said quietly, stepping back as Peter ripped through the paper. El just stared at hers, then looked at Peter.

It was a sketchbook. Peter flipped through it for a few moments before raising his head to look Neal in the eyes. "Yes," he said. "Elizabeth, open it."

She did, gasping in pleasure and wonder at the drawings on each page, sketches of her and Peter and Neal. She nodded, rushing forward to pull Neal into her arms, murmuring, "Yesyesyes, about time, _yes_."


	36. echoes of another year

**Title**: echoes of another year

**Fandom**: White Collar/Chuck

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: future!fic

**Pairings**: Bryce!Neal/Chuck

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**:420

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Chuck, Chuck/Bryce!Neal, He totally had Chuck going until the bad guys showed up; Chuck knows Bryce's fighting style.

* * *

Chuck's checked everything the intersect has on Bryce (twice, thrice, a dozen times) and nowhere does it mention he had a twin. Or a clone.

And while Neal Caffrey looks _just like Bryce_, he doesn't move like him. And he's charming, _just like Bryce_, but he doesn't know about Star Trek and he gives Chuck a politely confused expression when Chuck speaks Klingon, and even Sarah—who knew Bryce at least as well as Chuck did—says it can't be him.

And then, while Chuck and Neal are a few rooms over from the rest of their joint-team, there's suddenly a dozen guys attacking them. The intersect kicks in and Chuck is totally destroying them, when he glances over and sees Neal doing the same.

Neal. The guy with awesome hats who sketched Chuck so life-like it was a mirror in under a minute. The guy who knows the difference between Monet and Manet, but not Picard and Janeway. The guy who spent four years in jail instead of dying in Chuck's arms. The guy who didn't go to college anywhere, but definitely not Stanford.

Except that is _totally_ Bryce. Chuck's learned his fighting style courtesy the intersect and the Buy-More, and _that is Bryce_.

And as soon as the fight's over and all the goons are unconscious or dead, Bryce _looks_ at Chuck and—vanishes. And it's Neal standing there, and he says, "Well, that was an adventure, wasn't it?"

Agent Burke and Sarah and Casey run in, guns ready, and Neal says, "Peter, you should have seen Chuck! He was amazing."

Chuck wants to cry. And he tries to talk to Neal a dozen times, but Neal always dodges him, and then it's their last day working with the FBI and Neal pops in out of _nowhere_, grabs Chuck's hand, and drags him to a conference room. He shuts the door, closes the blinds, and says, "Bryce Larkin died, Chuck. He died and his body was destroyed."

"I know," Chuck responds, watching carefully, but it's still Neal.

Until he gives Chuck a quick, heartbreaking smile. "I'm sorry, Chuck," he murmurs, and leans forward for an entirely too brief kiss. "I'm Neal Caffrey now," he says, and then, in Klingon, "Go home. I can't be who you want anymore."

And Neal pulls away, straightens first his shirt, then Chuck's, and leaves the room.

And when Chuck has to wipe away some tears on the way home, not even Casey gives him a hard time about it.


	37. one day, summer ends

**Title**: one day, summer ends

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: takes place during season 1

**Pairings**: implied pre-Peter/Neal

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 175

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Green

* * *

Sometimes, for a few moments, Peter is jealous of Neal. Neal seems to be what everyone wishes they were, fun and free and beautiful and brilliant. And Neal is all of those things, except free. He belongs to the FBI for the next four years. More specifically, he belongs to Peter.

And, Peter knows, he belongs to Neal almost as much as he belongs to El.

For a long time, Neal did what he wanted when he wanted. He could hop a plane and go anywhere. He listened to no one, followed no law. And now he has to or he's headed straight back to prison.

Of course, Peter also knows that Neal could slip his leash and run away at any moment. That he hasn't shocks Peter less each day.

As jealous as Peter is sometimes, it's for the mask Neal wears, not the actual Neal. Neal convinced himself for the longest time that he didn't care. Peter knows better.

And Neal is far more jealous of Peter than Peter has ever been of Neal.


	38. when the North Star breaks through

**Title**: when the North Star breaks through

**Fandom**: SG-1/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU for both shows; I've yet to see the later seasons of SG-1, but I've read fic

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 950

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Blue

* * *

Claire Ballard had a cousin named Marcy. Besides her father, Marcy was her only family in the world.

Marcy was a small-time grifter and her partner was a fighter who didn't go down when the mob told him to.

And while Claire set up an exhibition in New York, Marcy's partner was beat to death to send a message.

Marcy, five months pregnant, ran.

Claire and her husband died days later and their son entered the same system his cousin would flee in fifteen years time. And it would be almost two decades after that when they would meet, Claire and Marcy's boys. Both survivors, both geniuses, and both able to find trouble anywhere.

o0o

In the middle of an undercover op with his FBI keeper, Neal Caffrey picks up an artifact awaiting auction. A light flashes and Neal falls, unconscious before he hits the floor. Peter gets him immediate attention, reports in, paces around the hospital, and almost punches the Air Force officer who arrives to take Neal away. Captain Harrison's superior, Colonel Mitchell, takes over, but Peter still refuses to budge, and no one's making any progress in diagnosing Neal, much less fixing him. And he's getting worse.

Colonel Mitchell's superior, General O'Neill, arrives and tells Peter to come with him and Neal to the one place that might help. Peter looks at Neal, still and small in the bed, and agrees.

o0o

Dr. Daniel Jackson greets Peter in the infirmary of an underground base. O'Neill calls him the ancient expert, which means nothing to Peter.

"Can you help Neal?" Peter demands, part of him glad they confiscated his gun. He may have very well drawn it to wave around, if he still had it.

"We examined the device, Agent Burke," Jackson says soothingly, his eyes as blue as Neal's. Peter hadn't believed that possible. "I think we can recreate what happened in reverse. That should wake him up without damage."

_Without damage_, shit. Peter hadn't thought that, of what might be different. Brain injuries are so dangerous, and nothing is _physically_ wrong with Neal. He just won't wake up. In fact, he's slipping deeper, further away.

Peter takes a slow, deep breath. Jackson smiles at him and walks over to O'Neill. They talk in soft voices; Peter ignores them to focus on Neal, looking so young on the bed.

Finally, Jackson goes to the artifact, in a plastic bag on a tray. He reaches into the bag, grabs the artifact, and says something in a language Peter doesn't recognize.

Whatever it is, it works. Neal gasps and sits up, gagging. Peter sighs in relief but keeps his distance while Dr. Fraiser, CMO of the base, attends to Neal.

As Neal catches his breath, Peter notices from the corner of his eye that Jackson is staring down at the bed, mouth open in shock.

O'Neill notices too, because he says, "Danny?"

Jackson shakes his head, mutters, "It's nothing." He smiles once more at Peter and walks out of the infirmary.

Neal is panicking on the bed and Peter slips in to bark, "Neal!" Neal freezes till he focuses on Peter and then he asks, "What's going on?"

"Let them help you," Peter says. "We'll get the explanation when you're better."

Neal looks him hard in the eyes but acquiesces.

o0o

Neal is back to a hundred percent within the hour. O'Neill slips out for a little while but comes back to lead Neal and Peter to a briefing room. Jackson and a blonde woman O'Neill introduces as Colonel Carter, PhD, are the only other people in attendance.

First they are given non-disclosure agreements, then Peter sits in disbelief and Neal grows steadily more excited as O'Neill—with many interjections by Carter and Jackson—explains about the Ancients and the various technology they left behind, only affected by people with a special Ancient gene.

"A gene you have in abundance, Caffrey," O'Neill finishes. "We've only come across a few people as strong or stronger than you."

Neal is bouncing in his seat, grinning. Peter shakes his head. He doesn't want to believe it, but a bright light knocked Neal down and out for hours with no physical cause or symptoms.

O'Neill watches Neal with the gentle amusement of a parent at a playground. Carter looks as excited as Neal, but Jackson has something like painful hope on his face.

"Mr. Caffrey," Jackson begins. "What do you… can you tell me about your parents?"

Neal's face closes off just as quick as when someone at work makes a jab about his life before or prison. "Why do you ask?" he replies, icily polite.

Peter interrupts. "You've checked his record?"

Carter says, "Yes, when we first realized he'd activated an artifact."

"There's nothing before he was fifteen," O'Neill adds. "We're curious."

But Neal's staring at Jackson, and he says quietly, "My mother was Marcy Ballard."

Aside from Havisham, Peter may be the only person in the world to understand how hard it was for Neal to say that.

Jackson smiles and tells him, "My mother was Claire Ballard."

Peter realizes instantly why Jackson's eyes are just as blue as Neal's. And glancing from one to the other, they have the same hopeful expression, the last-ditch dream of an orphan that maybe this family will, _at last, for keeps_, be the one.

Peter shoots a glare at O'Neill, who nods. "Carter, Burke," he says. "Let's go grab some supper."

Carter stands and hurries from the room. Peter follows, meeting O'Neill at the door. "Guess we'll be seeing more of each other, then," the general says jovially.

"Guess so," Peter replies calmly.

He hopes this family is everything Neal has dreamed.


	39. you are gone, my stranger

**Title**: you are gone, my stranger

**Fandom**: Highlander/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: post-series for Highlander, AU for White Collar

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 355

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar, Neal, it isn't real

* * *

For a long time, he thought it was a dream.

Then he hoped it was simply a delusion.

He knows better now, even if he wishes he could wake up screaming.

o0o

His name hasn't always been Neal. He hasn't always been a liar and a thief.

For a long time, he was something much worse.

o0o

He remembers swords and fire and blood. He knows exactly why he doesn't like guns, and he also knows why he's so good with them.

It's not a dream, this cage in New York.

It is a fantasy, an escape he wished for, dreamt for, hoped for. And now he has it, but _he remembers_-

o0o

Moz found him wandering the streets, covered in blood that (was)n't his, a sword cradled in his arms.

Moz thought he was brand-new, an infant in need of guidance, lost and lonely.

Only two of those were right.

o0o

It's been nice, pretending. Fun and easy. A rest he sorely needed, if that last challenge was any indication.

He's ready to go home.

But he isn't ready to leave Peter, El, Mozzie, or June. He isn't ready to take up his sword again, to kill all comers.  
But he doesn't want to die, either. And he doesn't want headhunters going after his family to force his hand.

o0o

He doesn't say goodbye, doesn't give any hint that it's his last day as Neal Caffrey, and doesn't take anything but his sword (returned by Mozzie) before he goes.

He was a student of War, and War learned from Death, and the Old Man is waiting for him. Out of the game for almost a decade, things have changed and he only trusts his teacher's teacher to reintroduce him.

Mozzie is awesome, and he was lucky to have been found by him. But Moz is not a warrior. He's escaped detection for centuries and Neal (not for much longer) doesn't want to reveal him to the world. He owes Moz and he'll protect him from what he can.

So he sheds Neal Caffrey and goes to the nearest safe-house, and waits for Methos.


	40. Maker, remake, complete

**Title**: Maker, remake, complete

**Fandom**: Highlander/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: future!fic for both shows

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 710

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar/Highlander. Neil, Methos, Duncan, Joe. "Hey, Uncle." "Uncle?" "He was my teacher's brother. Hence, uncle." Kronos was Neil's teacher.

* * *

The way Adam's fingers clench around his glass for a moment lets Joe know that someone's on the way. A few moments later, Mac lifts his head, and about ten seconds after that, a fancy kid saunters in.

Joe's pretty sure no one dressed so nice has ever been in the place before.

Sharp blue eyes take in everything: the few patrons here so early, Mac, and the Old Man masquerading as a kid just outta grad school.

He settles next to Adam with a grin and his act is almost as good as Adam's. If Joe hadn't seen Mac and Adam's reactions, even as a watcher, he'd have been fooled.

He orders the same thing Adam's drinking and seems content to sit there all day, nursing a single glass. Joe wonders if he knows what he is; he hasn't reacted to Mac or Adam at all.

"He's dead, you know."

The words are so soft Joe barely hears them. He isn't even sure Adam's spoken until the kid's fingers clutch his glass so hard it shatters.

"He died because I betrayed him," Adam continues, eyes on his own glass as the kid picks shards out of his palm. "The last thing he saw was me taking Silas' head."

"And Caspian?" the kid asks quietly, no emotion in his voice. His gaze stays on his skin as it knits.

"Lost his head."

The kid nods and looks up to smile at Joe. "Another, please? I'll pay for the glass, of course."

Adam gives the kid a fond, exasperated glance that Joe's sure he himself used to give Adam, back before he knew about the Old Man. "Put it on my tab, Joe," he says. "And toss in some food for the brat."

The kid rolls his eyes (and Joe seriously needs to stop thinking about him as _the kid_, because he clearly knows about the Horsemen, which makes him _old_).

"I'm Neal Caffrey," he says brightly. "And an FBI agent is going to rush through that door any minute now," he adds, turning his head to look at Mac. "Please don't try to attack him or anything." Looking back at Adam, he confides, "Peter worries about me."

Adam laughs. "He wants to strangle you, you mean."

Neal's grin makes him look ten years younger, which is quite the feat since he already looked maybe twelve. "Well, yeah."

"Before your keeper arrives," Adam says, gesturing for Mac and Joe to lean in close, "allow me to introduce my darling nephew." Joe shares a glance at Mac, who shrugs, just as in the dark. Hopefully this secret revealed won't blow up in their faces.

(And he mentally pauses for a moment, to wonder if Methos has been fiddling around with the Chronicles for years. He doesn't recognize this kid, not from a description or pictures, but he's got to be somewhere near Cassandra's age.)

"This is Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod and his Watcher, the delightful Joe Dawson."

Neal shakes both their hands. "Thank you for looking after Uncle for me," he says. "It's been awhile since I saw him."

A man whose bearing and outfit scream FBI storms in, arrowing straight for Neal. Joe bustles away for a moment, letting them have the illusion of privacy, and Adam clearly hears every word, if his grin is anything to go by.

"Special Agent Burke," the FBI guy finally says, looking to Joe. "My consultant, Neal Caffrey."

Joe moves back in and asks, "Somethin' I can help you with, agent?"

"I hope so," Burke says.

o0o

Later that night, after Joe turns the bar over to Mike and makes his way to Mac's, as they're discussing this turn of events and Joe confesses he searched for any mention of Neal in the chronicles, Mac pauses mid-sentence and turns his head to the door.

Joe is unsurprised when Adam lets himself in, Neal at his heels.

"The brat's agreed to play Truth or Dare, if you want," Adam says, sprawling on Mac's couch, not caring that Mac had already been settled there. "I'm all for it, myself."

Mac rolls his eyes and Joe tries to discreetly hide his notebook.

Neal grins, though, settling himself next to Adam, and Joe figures, _what the hell_.


	41. As kingfishers catch fire

**Title**: As kingfishers catch fire, as dragonflies draw flames

**Fandom**: White Collar/mythology

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Hopkins

**Warnings**: future!fic; depressing

**Pairings**: gennish

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 400

**Point** **of** **view**: third

* * *

He has been called Coyote's cousin and Anansi's nephew, the adopted son of Loki. He is not truly a god; merely a lesser trickster spirit, a shadow of what a Trickster God can do.

o0o

In June of 2011, for no reason she can discern, Elizabeth Burke buys a lottery ticket and wins three hundred million dollars. Her business flourishes and she has to start turning people away.

In July, Peter Burke retires from the FBI and becomes a private investigator. He never works on the weekend, instead searching for Neal. He knows the faces of the men who took him. Soon, he learns their names. Their location comes days after that.

o0o

He made a bet with his brother that he couldn't go powerless for long at all. He lasted four hundred years by human reckoning, and he finally asked to be released to save Peter's life. He ensured that Peter would heal, that the rest of his human family would be rescued, and then he surrendered himself to the criminals who wanted to destroy Neal Caffrey.

o0o

In August, Neal's kidnappers give up the location of a mass-grave. Two dozen cold cases are solved, but none of the bodies are Neal.

In September, the kidnappers finally say why they took him. The next day, all seven are found dead in their cells.

o0o

He lived as a coyote and a spider and a raven. He hunted as predator and fled as prey. He was a flower and a weed, a drop of rain and a drop in the ocean. He was born and he died. He always knew who he was, what he had been, what was just beyond his reach. He had only to say the word.

_Brother, I need you. Please. Remove your collar from my neck._

o0o

His old agents at the Bureau tell him the search is on-going, but Peter knows they think Neal is dead. Elizabeth insists they talk about him every night, if only for a few minutes. June and Mozzie come over every Sunday, just to share gripes about the antics Neal used to get into.

Peter still spends a large portion of each weekend trying to find Neal. A part of him is terrified he'll only ever find a body.

o0o

Neal Caffrey is dead. Neal Caffrey never existed.

Peter doesn't notice the small dark bird that follows him till the day he dies.


	42. a love gift utterly unasked for

**Title**: a love gift utterly unasked for by a sky

**Fandom**: Leverage/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU for Neal's backstory; mentions of child abuse and non-con

**Pairings**: thoughts about Eliot/Neal; mentions of OMC/Neal

**Rating**: PG13

**Wordcount**: 650

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Leverage/White Collar, Eliot/Neal, Neal didn't owe many people favors.

* * *

Neal doesn't owe many people favors. He goes out of his way to avoid it, actually. He learned early that anyone with power over him would abuse it, and he spent most of his life trying to reach a place where no one could touch him.

(Yeah, that didn't work out so well. But he knows, and he thinks maybe Peter does, too, that Neal could be gone tomorrow and not even Peter could find him again.

Neal's had almost two years, now, to learn how the FBI works from the inside. He could vanish in an hour and never leave a trail for Peter to pick up.)

Neal hates to owe favors, and there are three people in the world he knows he can never repay. He'll owe them forever, and the three of them will never ask him to settle the debt. None of them even think a debt exists.

Peter's the third, for this chance to go legitimate. And the way he keeps trusting Neal, the way he's let Neal into his life. Letting him have Elizabeth as an almost-sister, letting Satchmo sprawl all over him on the couch that no other agent would've let him touch. Treating him like something between a kid-brother and a son. (At least, the way Neal thinks a son should be treated. Not something he ever really knew before Peter.)

Mozzie's second, because of that thing when Neal was seventeen. Taking in a punk kid with a broken arm, bruises, and blood. Tucking him into bed with chicken soup and hand-feeding him when anyone else would've just thrown him back onto the street. It took Neal four months to believe Moz would never demand repayment, and that's why Neal will take any job Mozzie asks of him.

And Eliot. Eliot Spencer. That wasn't his name then, of course. Either of them. Neal wouldn't be Neal for ten years, and Eliot wouldn't be Eliot until he started retrieving the impossible.

Neal was six and Eliot ten when they met at the Danwall's, a foster family in Topeka. Eliot had a sister somewhere in the system and Neal was completely alone. Eliot was angry at the world; Neal was tiny and still dreamt of happily ever after.

Neal has had over two decades to think about those months. Every angle, every possible ending. Almost a decade of following Eliot's career, covertly, of course. Wouldn't do to lead the authorities to one of three men in the world he'd pick up a gun for.

And Neal has thought about what he'd tell Eliot, if he ever worked up the nerve to speak to him again.

(Vince Danwall always watched Neal. And Eliot always watched Vince.

Vince wasn't the first or last man to look at Neal like that, but he was the first to make a move. Eliot was almost too late, and he was barely eleven years old. But he did have surprise on his side, and a carving knife he stole from the kitchen.

Neal, Eliot, and another boy were taken from the Danwall family. Vince died before the paramedics arrived.

Eliot taught Neal that he could fight back, and it would be ten years before someone finally got the better of him.

And if he ever works up the nerve to show up at the apartment Eliot never takes anyone to, if he actually had the guts to knock on that door, he thinks he would kiss Eliot, and pull him close, and just soak up his warmth and his strength and his sheer presence.

Because that decade taught him that he could be something more. They're how he survived that night he collapsed a dozen feet from Moz and four years in prison.

He'd try to thank Eliot, but words don't exist for what a kid two days past his eleventh birthday gave a sobbing six year old.)


	43. I read of that glad year

**Title**: I read of that glad year which once had been

**Fandom**: White Collar/Highlander

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU for Neal's back-story; post-series for Highlander (and ignores all sequel films, as in I totally forgot about the one I've seen)

**Pairings**: Methos/Neal, Neal/Kate, mentions of Peter/Neal(/Elizabeth)

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 1840

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: portrait

**Notes**: originally meant to be a short drabble. It got away from me.

* * *

When Neal was twenty, just before Kate and long after Moz, he met a fascinating individual at the Louvre. They were both admiring the _Mona Lisa_ and Neal said to the man next to him, "da Vinci is magnificent."

"He truly was a master," the man replied. "A genius yet to be equaled." And then, when Neal turned to face him, the man continued, expounding on da Vinci—everything Neal could think to wonder and many things he'd have never considered.

When the man wound down, flushing and lifting a hand to the back of his neck in embarrassment, Neal smiled at him. "I'm Neal Holden," he said. "Do you know as much about Michelangelo?"

"Adam Mateo," his newest friend replied. "And yes."

They spent the rest of the day together, discussing the greatest artists of all time. Neal learned that Adam had recently graduated Stanford with a PhD in philosophy and he'd inherited his great-uncle's fortune. "The old man had chased away everybody else," Adam explained with a wave of his hand. "I was the only one who visited anymore, so he left me everything. And now I'm wandering the world, seeing all the wonders."

Adam's accent was a mixture of several American regions, much like Neal's own. And based on their discussions, Neal felt like they were old friends.

After supper, which Adam insisted on paying for, claiming he had too much money, he invited Neal back to his room. "Just to talk," he said. "It's been a while since I found anyone as interesting as you."

Neal studied him. Even before Mozzie's warnings, Neal knew the dangers. He couldn't remember a time he didn't know them, hadn't experienced firsthand how _dangerous_ the world was.

But Adam didn't feel like a threat. He was just a guy after a good time, same as Neal. A guy who appreciated beauty and was able to keep up with Neal.

"Sure," Neal replied.

o0o

They spent a week together, traveling around France. Adam knew places that weren't mobbed by tourists and helped Neal with his French. He sketched Adam in a variety of poses and told him about his plans for the future. Adam offered him advice, taught him a few tricks of the con that Neal was sure even Mozzie didn't know. (Neal would've guaranteed that Adam wasn't just a Doctor of Philosophy. No way in Hell.)

And finally, it was time for Neal to go home, to Moz and their newest partner, Kathryn Moreau.

"I wish you luck, Neal," Adam said, and, "I expect great things of you."

o0o

About a decade later, Neal was caged by the FBI, Kate was dead, and Moz had pieces of sage advice interspersed with ideas for future jobs.

The only good things about staying in New York—besides June's loft, which was to die for—were Peter and Elizabeth. No one except Kate, Moz, and a man in France for a week over ten years ago had ever kept up with Neal. Neal still liked Peter, even after he put Neal in jail—yes, he was keeping Peter for awhile. And Elizabeth was simply amazing.

And then came the op with Peter that led to Neal being kidnapped (at gunpoint!) and driven somewhere while blindfolded and a punch to the head that had him on the ground and—

Neal woke up moments before the FBI swooped in and he'd never felt better. The bad guys were arrested or shot resisting arrest and he went home and the second he set foot on the stairs, he had a headache. It was weird, too: a low-grade buzzing he couldn't ignore, unlike anything else he'd experienced.

When he made it to his door, Mozzie met him and said, "Damnit, Neal, this was supposed to happen while I was there."

o0o

So, yeah. Moz cut open both their hands to prove it, but Neal had apparently died and come back to life.

"I've known since I met you, Neal," Moz said. "I could feel it. That buzz in the back of your head—it's how our kind recognize each other."

Neal looked at him, studied his face. "How old are you?" he asked quietly, unsure if he was more hurt or angry that Moz had stayed around so long only because Neal was _immortal_.

"Six hundred, more or less," Moz said. "And Neal, I didn't seek you out just because you were like me. I would've taken you under my wing no matter what." His eyes were sincere and Neal relaxed. "You were so full of potential, Neal, that I had to stay. And you've become a master. In six centuries, I've met hundreds of thieves, of con-men, and only one has _ever_ been as good as you. Better, even. He helped me in my first decade. Antony was my teacher; I'll call him in the morning, see if he'll swing by."

Moz kept talking about Antony and the Game and how Neal needed to take up the sword, but Neal checked out of the conversation and fell asleep on the couch.

He woke in the morning to a headache and Moz cooking breakfast.

Apparently, it wasn't a dream. Damn.

o0o

For the next week, Neal went to work like nothing had changed. Mozzie moved in and provided a sword, as well as the most basic of lessons.

"I'm good enough," he said, "but I've survived by knowing when to run. Antony will either teach you himself or call in a favor and get you taught by the best, a boy scout named MacLeod."

o0o

Late Monday night, Neal jerked awake when a new buzz hit him. For a few moments it felt like a superbuzz, hammering him down. Then it lessened, becoming only a slight hum.

Neal went to the main room, where Mozzie already was, practically bouncing on his feet. "He's here," Moz announced unnecessarily.

Neal shook his head, wondering if he'd imagined the superbuzz. "Moz…" he began.

Mozzie correctly interpreted his confusion and said, "Antony was just letting me know it's him."

When a knock came at the door, Moz opened it and Neal stood to the side as his teacher's teacher walked in.

Neal blinked and Adam smiled.

"Am I—" he asked. "Adam, what?"

Moz looked from Adam to Neal. "Antony, you already met Neal?"

"Yes, Marcus," he replied. "About a decade ago, Adam Mateo spent a lovely week with Neal Holden."

o0o

Ten years and Adam hadn't aged a day. Six centuries and Neal guessed Mozzie could say the same.

Looking at Adam, Neal finally believed it. Neal'd forever look thirty-two. He had forever.

"Holy shit," he muttered, sinking back onto the couch.

Moz fluttered beside the armrest, asking, "Neal, are you okay?"

Adam knelt at his feet, pulling Neal forward so that their foreheads touched. "Breathe, Neal," he murmured. "It is overwhelming, I know. But I am here, and your friend Mozzie. We'll take care of you."

o0o

Neal finally fell asleep in Adam's arms, listening to a lullaby crooned in a language dead before words were ever written down.

"Wha's your name?" he slurred into the junction of Adam's shoulder and neck.

"I don't remember," Adam answered. "What's yours?"

"Noah," Neal said. "He died twenty years ago. Just a dumbass kid."

Adam pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and Moz hissed something from across the room, but Adam resumed his lullaby and Neal quit fighting to stay awake.

o0o

Neal woke just before noon. Moz and Adam were seated on the couch, speaking an old form of Italian that Neal only recognized because of some research he did after Adam's lectures on da Vinci.

"Did you _know_ da Vinci?" he asked, slumping against the doorway.

Adam laughed. "I didn't know every famous person in history."

"Just most of them," Moz cut in.

Neal stretched, letting himself get lost in their bickering. His whole world had changed (he had _forever_, if he kept his head), but here, in the kitchen of June's beautiful loft, in his favorite city in the world, it all seemed like such a great adventure.

o0o

"You're lucky," Adam said as they strolled down the street later that afternoon.

Adam had called him in with a stomach bug and he had to be in early next the morning (if possible), but he had a freed day.

"How so?" Neal asked, neatly ducking a pickpocket and snagging her loot in the process.

Adam grinned, planting a twenty in the girl's pocket. "No one knows you died, so you can live here for a couple more decades, if you like."

They were silent for a few blocks. Adam had done something to the tracker, so it would appear like Neal spent the day in the loft—in bed or wrapped around the toilet, and he'd be appropriately miserable tomorrow—and there was apparently a quaint little deli Adam remembered from forty years ago. He wanted to see if it was still there.

"I'd like to finish out my sentence," Neal said. "Just a couple years left. Then we'll go from there, see what I want then."

Adam smiled at him, pulled him in for a quick kiss, and said, "Right up here."

o0o

Adam stayed for almost two weeks, dodging Peter the whole while. He taught Neal more than a few dirty tricks with a sword and said, "Practice till it's instinct. Time is the greatest teacher."

Neal still didn't know how old he truly was. Moz said he was at least two thousand, but probably a great deal older.

"You're fun," Adam murmured in his ear as he prepared to leave. "I'd like you to stay around for awhile." A deep kiss and Adam pulled away, a scrap of paper with a phone number only for emergencies tucked into Neal's pocket.

"Good to see you again, Marcus," he told Mozzie. "And look out for this kid, y'hear?"

Moz nodded. "I'll see you at Thursday as scheduled."

Adam caressed Neal's cheek and was gone.

o0o

Things continued on at work like nothing had changed. Neal solved puzzles, went undercover, ate lunch with Peter and dinner with Peter and Elizabeth. He practiced with a sword and hacked into the Watchers' database with the codes and ID Adam gave him, to catch up on the history of his people.

He'd finish out his deal with Peter. After that… he wanted to stay, to keep Peter and Elizabeth. Besides Moz, they were the closest thing to family he'd ever had. Even Kate had mostly been a fantasy. Peter and El were the real deal.

He didn't want to lose them. And he'd never believed he'd outlive them. Neal always knew he'd die young.

He _did_ die young, and his bitter, heartbroken chuckle had Jones looking over to ask, "Caffrey, you okay?"

Neal nodded. "Just fine," he lied.

He'd keep Peter and El till the four years were up. Then he'd find Adam and travel the world until there was nothing left to see.

o0o

(He went back for the funerals, Adam and Moz at his side.)


	44. crime doesn't pay

**Title**: crime doesn't pay (unless you're good at it)

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU

**Pairings**: OT3

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 350

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Neal/Peter/El, they're _all_ white collar criminals

* * *

Moz introduced Peter to Neal first. Neal was just a boy then, barely seventeen, the perfect kid to play the gleefully annoying spitfire of a snot-nosed brat to Peter's long-suffering and responsible older brother.

Their mark bought it, hook, line, and sinker. Peter took Neal out for ice-cream to celebrate and then let Neal down gently when the kid tried to steal a kiss.

o0o

Elizabeth was vibrant and beautiful and Peter retreated to icy professionalism to keep from ravishing her against the whiteboard he used to draw up the plans.

Moz spent the whole job laughing, and Elizabeth just kept smiling.

After they succeeded (of course), Elizabeth showed up at Peter's safe-house (thanks so much, Moz, glad to see you give out addresses to pretty women) and asked him to join her for a delicious Italian dinner.

They married a year later.

o0o

Moz told them they needed a third for a long con, someone who could pass as a brother or a son, depending on the audience. He suggested half a dozen candidates, but after El did some research, she chose Neal Caffrey.

Peter remembered him somewhat fondly, but hadn't thought about him in ten years. And the man who walked into their apartment, laughing with El, was _not_ that boy. He spent the whole job flirting with both of them (when not in character as Peter's son or El's brother (though, in that case, he flirted with whichever one he wasn't related to)) and driving Peter to distraction. Elizabeth thought the whole thing was funny.

When the con went bad, it wasn't any of their faults, and Neal got shot while buying time for Peter and Elizabeth to escape.

They went back for him, of course, and took him home, and he just never left.

o0o

Moz would say, later, that they owed him for many things. Peter made sure he got some of the profits from all their escapades because he _did_ owe Moz a lot—chief among the debts were Elizabeth and Neal, and all the happiness Peter derived from the epic shenanigans his lovers got into.


	45. guidance

**Title**: guidance

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: preseries AU

**Pairings**: pre-Adler/Neal

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 205

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar, Neal/Vincent Adler, Adler asked Neal to go with him when he took off with everybody's money.

* * *

He's watched the kid smooth down his sharp edges and become something that might one day be extraordinary. He knows the kid (fake name Nick, real name Neal—Neal isn't the name his parents gave him, no way, but it is one he's picked, so Vincent might as well call him that) started out trying to con him, but maybe, he might be able to use Neal. Turn him, train him up right, and keep him.

Neal seems to think he's in love with sweet, pretty Kate, but Vincent knows better, and that Kate is running her own con on the man she still thinks is Nick _and_ Vincent. Neal could be so good, but if he stays on this current path… well. He won't live up to his potential at all.

So the day before his scheduled departure, he asks Nick Halden to join him on a business trip. Neal pauses, quickly glances into Vincent's eyes, and says, "Of course."

The next morning, Neal meets him at the airport. He's dressed to impress, so Vincent smiles at him appreciatively and Neal's spine straightens at the approval.

Oh, yes. Vincent will have so much fun training this one. Neal could be his greatest creation yet.


	46. love is where our summer was

**Title**: love is where our summer was

**Fandom**: White Collar/Chuck

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: child abuse; implied sexual abuse

**Pairings**: implied OMC/Neal

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 445

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar/Chuck, Neal + Bryce, James Bond and James Bonds

* * *

When they were young, Noah and Brendan Lafferty's favorite thing to do was watch old James Bond VHSs. Their father had most of the films; a box full was the only thing left behind when he didn't come back one day.

As new films were made, they would sneak into the theater, and Brendan talked about one day being James Bond. Noah promised to help him, and create any documents needed.

Dad came back their senior year. He could barely stand Noah, who was president of the art club and the lead in the play. He thought Brendan was awesome though, since Brendan had mastered all the martial arts taught in their town. Brendan had passed on the basics to Noah, but Dad didn't care about that.

Brendan wasn't there the afternoon their father finally lost his temper and grabbed Noah's arm, slamming him into a wall. Wasn't there when their father told him that he was a fag, a slut, and if he spread his legs for half the town, he'd goddamned better bring home some money for it.

Mom was upstairs, sleeping. Dad had alcohol on his breath. Brendan wasn't there.

Noah didn't fight back and hated himself for it.

When Brendan got home, Noah was in their room beneath the covers of Brendan's bed.

The next morning, their father was gone again. Noah wanted to ask; their mother did. Brendan smiled at Mom and shrugged, and sat down too close to Noah after serving them breakfast.

Dad never came back that time, and a few days later, Brendan took Noah to a desolate spot on the edge of town where the dirt was freshly turned. There, Brendan asked if Noah was ready to leave, make their dreams finally come true.

A week after that, Noah and Brendan Lafferty were dead; Neal Caffrey and Bryce Larkin were born.

Bryce went to Stanford, got recruited by the CIA, and became an American James Bond. He wrote Neal letters giving out the details that wouldn't get them both killed.

Neal went to New York and immersed himself in art like he never had at home. He created identities and painted his favorites and began making a name as the go-to guy for non-violent crime. He met Moz and wrote Bryce, telling him the funnier stories.

When he learned the name the FBI had given him, Neal called Bryce and they laughed for days. They met up at one of Neal's safe-houses and had a James Bond marathon.

(Neither of them had guessed, then, how things would go. It was so much like a movie and they'd never watched movies without a happy ending.)


	47. bluebleak embers

**Title**: blue-bleak embers

**Fandom**: Chuck/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: future!fic; AU for Chuck

**Pairings**: OT3

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 445

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Chuck/White Collar, Bryce!Neal +or/ any, Neal will maintain his cover through physical torture if he must - but when someone he loves is the one being tortured he'll risk everything

* * *

They grabbed Elizabeth last night, while she walked to her car. She'd stayed late at the office for some little detail only the boss could see to, while Peter and Neal waited at home. Uselessly at home, waiting for her, and she never came and now she's missing.

It has nothing to do with the case Peter's working or some con Neal pulled ten years ago. Peter's checked everything, pulled every file, combed through a million small details and he's at a loss. Doesn't know why they took Elizabeth or who they are.

Neal doesn't know either. Neal couldn't know, shouldn't know. Neal stayed away from certain parts of his profession. Didn't want to get involved with anyone who was violent or dealt in flesh.

But now Elizabeth's been gone for three days without a call, without a ransom, without a clue.

And while Neal doesn't know, Bryce could find out.

So Peter is in his office, following up on leads that go nowhere and Neal crouches in the corner, settling against the wall. He ignores Peter, ignores Diana and Jones, closes his eyes and lets all the barriers in his mind drop.

There are things he can't ignore anymore, not with El snatched and gone. Not with Peter cracking at the seams.

Neal closed his eyes, but Bryce opens them. And while Neal shied away from violence, Bryce won't. He's been sleeping for five years now, first in the tail-end of a sentence Neal barely served and then as the Burkes' pet con, but now, _now_—

"Neal?" Diana asks, drawing Peter's attention to the man leaning against the wall.

Bryce answers, "I have an idea," because he knows things Neal never has and he's done things Neal never could, and there's a man in the underbelly of New York he needs to pay a visit to.

"Neal!" Peter yells after him, but the tracker is left just outside the doors and Neal is gone.

(Bryce finds El a day later. Neal carries her to the ER. The people who took her are never located, but Bryce knows where all the pieces are.

Peter asks and Hughes demands, but since Elizabeth is alive, they just put the tracker back on.

Once El is home, Peter wraps around her and Neal curls in as close he dares, and he hesitantly tells them a story about a boy who went to Stanford, who was tricked into the CIA, who wanted out and died to do it, who _is_ dead most of the time, except when Neal needs him.

"Okay," Elizabeth says and kisses Neal's forehead.

Peter smiles at him and Neal doesn't dream about Chuck that night.)


	48. better as a memory

**Title**: better as a memory

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: character death

**Pairings**: Peter/Elizabeth

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 235

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar, any, "Just how far would you go for him?"

* * *

Neal Caffrey is a pretty boy who doesn't like guns. He's a non-violent offender who bribed his way through prison on his knees. He's a gentleman, master of the paintbrush and ballpoint pen.

In other words, he's easy to write off as no threat.

o0o

Neal Caffrey doesn't exist. Never has. He's a mask. He's a lie.

He went to prison for four years, conned his way around the east coast for six, and spent a couple in Europe for good measure. He's wanted for various (non-violent) crimes in five countries.

Neal Caffrey is a name and a legend.

Neal Caffrey belongs to the FBI only because he allows himself to be leashed, and even then, only so long as Peter Burke holds the leash.

o0o

Elizabeth and Peter Burke were on the way home from their anniversary dinner. Neal Caffrey was at his loft.

Elizabeth spent a week in a coma before waking with no memory of the past five years. Peter was missing.

The motive finally got narrowed down to a case Peter had worked in his first week at the FBI, years before Neal Caffrey was invented.

Neal left his anklet in Elizabeth's hospital room and was no longer Neal by the time he hit the elevator.

o0o

Peter Burke had a lovely funeral. Neal Caffrey didn't attend.

By that point, Neal Caffrey only existed in legend and criminal empires in five countries were toppling down.


	49. Mingling hands and mingling glances

**Title**: Mingling hands and mingling glances

**Fandom**: White Collar/Highlander

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: future!fic for Highlander; sometime in season 2 for White Collar

**Pairings**: Methos/Neal, Peter/Elizabeth, pre-OT3

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 550

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: a little snippet of Peter seeing Methos and Neal kissing

**Notes**: for Touch of the Wind, since she requested it

* * *

The weekend is Neal-free time, when Peter does things with Elizabeth. Sometimes she has a commitment for her business that she couldn't schedule for during the week or Peter has a case that boils over, but usually, she and Peter go on adventures—museums and art galleries and travel anywhere they can get to in less than a day.

Neal knows not to bother Peter on the weekends unless they have a case. Peter isn't sure what Neal does, but so far it's never gotten him in trouble.

o0o

Peter is called in the middle of Saturday with an emergency that only he and Neal can solve. Neal doesn't answer his phone, but Peter calls up his Neal-map and sees that the tracker is still at Neal's loft. He figures that Neal is in the shower or napping or sketching on the balcony away from his phone, so he kisses El and heads over.

He doesn't bother knocking, just goes on in. Neal isn't napping or in the shower, so Peter checks the balcony, and there Neal is.

Peter freezes in place, unable to look away. Neal's on the balcony, alright, but he isn't alone. There's another man with him: slightly taller, hair just as dark, paler than him.

And, well. There's a good reason Neal didn't answer the phone.

"We have a visitor," Neal's friend murmurs, smirking at Peter over Neal's shoulder. "Your lawman, from the looks of him."

Neal chuckles and spins in place, keeping his friend's arms around him. "Peter, hey," he says, and he's as collected as always. "Agent Peter Burke," he introduces, "this is an old friend of mine, Matt." He tilts his head back to say, much softer, "A _very_ old friend."

Matt smiles at him and presses a kiss to his neck; Peter finally looks away, swallowing.

"So, what's up?" Neal asks, pulling away and sauntering past Peter to grab the shirt lying on his bed.

Matt just leans back against the balcony, still smirking, so Peter turns to follow Neal and says, "We've got a case."

o0o

The emergency turns out to be not so urgent. Peter considers and discards almost a dozen opening gambits in asking Neal about his old friend Matt with the completely unplaceable accent, but he never quite works up the nerve and then Hughes tells them to go home.

"See you Monday," Neal says with a wave.

"Yeah," Peter responds, watching him go.

He really needs to talk to El.

o0o

It's not that Neal was kissing a man, Peter explains to Elizabeth, pacing in front of the couch. He couldn't care less about that.

"Really, hon?" El asks.

Peter pauses mid-step. "It's not that he was kissing a _man_," he repeats, more slowly.

"It's that he _wasn't_ kissing _you_," Elizabeth finishes. "Remember, we have talked about this."

Shaking his head, Peter says, "But that was all hypothetical! Or maybe for your birthday."

Elizabeth stands and reaches out. He takes her hand and lets her pull him in, and she smiles up at him. "Neal adores you, Peter. And he thinks I'm wonderful. So let him play with Matt this weekend, and then invite him over for supper Monday night."

Peter nods, leans down to kiss her, and decides not to think about Neal until at least tomorrow morning.


	50. let that season be only Spring

**Title**: let that season be only Spring

**Fandom**: Leverage/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: takes place sometime after season 2 for both shows

**Pairings**: Eliot/Hardison

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 240

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Leverage, Eliot/Hardison, Eliot tries to hide the panic he feels when Alec takes him home to meet his Nana.

* * *

They fly to New York under the names Tommy Finn and Harold Sawyer. Eliot can't believe it works. All he can think of, every single second of the flight and leaving the airport and taking a cab to Alec's Nana's house, is how much he'd rather be in prison somewhere, being tortured.

Alec is excited and babbling about the awesome places Nana used to take him, and all the lessons Granddad gave him, and how Nana promised him once that unless he did something unpalatably awful, like killing someone who didn't deserve it, she'd always bail him out.

Sounds like a pretty swell lady. Eliot is terrified.

o0o

"Alec!" Nana says, pulling him in for a tight hug. She's tiny and elegant and sharp, and Alec is babbling even more now, trying to introduce them, except his words tumble all over each other.

He hasn't been home, Eliot knows, since before Nate made them a family. Even from afar, though, somehow Nana pulled strings somewhere. When Eliot figured that out, that someone had Alec's back when even Eliot failed…

Well. He will thank her for that.

"Eliot Spencer," Nana says, pulling away to look at Eliot. "I've heard a great deal about you."

He inclines his head and says, "Ma'am. Alec talks about you all the time."

"Call me June." She smiles at him, takes Alec's hand, and turns to lead them inside. "C'mon, boys, lunch is waiting."


	51. there will be stars forever

**Title**: There will be stars forever

**Fandom**: Highlander/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: future!fic for Highlander; early in the series for White Collar

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 250

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Highlander, Methos, pickpocketing.

* * *

His name is Ben Adamson today, and he's an Australian on loan with some Aborigine artifacts for the Museum of Natural History. He's charmed everyone he's to work with and being back in the States has been fun so far. He let the elder Highlander know he's in town, shot the shit about Duncan (off on another crusade to save everyone in need of it), and now he's on the way to his hotel. Ben's got a bit more money than Adam (graduate student, young Watcher, and then infant immortal) had, but it's still not what Methos would like.

He's doing the whole tourist thing on the way, noting what has changed and what hasn't, editing his mental map of the city. A pretty young thing catches his eye: slim, fit, brilliant blue eyes, artfully tousled dark hair.

While he watches, the kid (a pre-immortal, maybe he should stay around longer?) expertly picks the pockets of passing businessmen, and then slips the wallets into the pockets of others. After a moment, he realizes that all the victims are going into the same office building, so the chaos should be minimized.

When the man whose outfit screams Fed walks up and claims the kid, he understands.

Hmm. Ben Adamson may be permanently reassigned to New York. The kid bears further watching, and if he's a criminal who turned on his own kind… well. He'll probably be dead soon, and Duncan would be so disappointed if Methos let him go it alone.


	52. Memory strives with Death

**Title**: Memory strives with Death

**Fandom**: White Collar/Highlander

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: no HL characters appear; takes place early in WC

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 210

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar; Neal; "May you find what you're looking for."

* * *

The buzz hits while he's waiting in line for his coffee. Peter's in his car, on the phone with Hughes about some crisis they'll deal with when they get to the office, and Neal hasn't carried a sword since he became Neal almost a decade and a half ago.

He almost panics, almost looks around and gives himself away. But Neal has been in the Game for a very long time and most immortals can't actually pinpoint a buzz. So he smiles at the barista, gives his and Peter's order, waits patiently while chatting with another customer about her adorable toddler, drops a five in the tip jar, and collects his two coffees, all without looking around like a fool.

He even smiles at the other immortal as he leaves in the middle of a crowd. The man looks middle-aged, though fit, of course. He's staring hard at everyone and can't even tell when Neal walks right past him. Young, then. Maybe a century, but probably not. He won't notice for a little while that Neal's buzz has faded, and he won't remember Neal.

Peter burns his mouth on the coffee and grumbles about it. Neal tries not to remember certain things and wonders how long that kid will last.


	53. the ghost of one who came here often

**Title**: the ghost of one who came here often

**Fandom**: White Collar/Chuck

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU for Chuck; anytime for White Collar

**Pairings**: implied Bryce/Chuck

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 320

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Chuck/White Collar, Bryce + Neal (no slash), "How is it we're identical twins, you can wear my clothes, you can style your hair right, and you still don't look enough like a spy to pass at the agency?" "I'm just not enough of a dick." "Nice."

* * *

The undercover op is successful at first, because Neal is a very good liar and he has years of experience pretending to be his brother.

But it's doomed to failure because while he is good with guns, and proficient at hand-to-hand (his brother insisted), Neal isn't a killer. Not that he _can't_ kill, because he can, and he has, and he will again, to save Peter or El or Moz or (above all) Bryce. But he isn't a killer, not like Bryce. It isn't easy for him.

And he's leading away the spooks after his brother while Bryce escapes, and he slips into a well-dressed crowd, drapes the leather jacket over a model-pretty woman, snags an awesome hat from a guy in a sloppy suit, and sheds Bryce to become Nicholas Calden again.

He gets a text halfway through the party: _made it. vanish_

He meets up with his brother at the loft, and Bryce smiles at him. "Mind if I lie low here for awhile?"

Neal shrugs and stretches his spine, trying to work out the kinks of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. (Or maybe just the weight of one computer geek from Los Angeles. It doesn't matter. Either way, it was a weight he assumed to sell the con, and it failed. How Bryce manages it all the time… well, no wonder he needs to get away, and has died multiple times to do it.)

"Thanks, Noah," Bryce says quietly. He stares over the balcony and Neal tugs him gently toward the bed.

"C'mon, Brendan," Neal murmurs. "When's the last time you slept, lil'brother?"

"I'm barely two minutes younger than you," Bryce mutters, but he lets Neal tuck him under the covers and curls in close when Neal slides next to him.

It's the first time they've curled up together since they were boys, and it's the best sleep Bryce has had since Stanford.


	54. we thought we'd live forever

**Title**: we thought we'd live forever

**Fandom**: Highlander/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: takes place early in season 2 of WC; future!fic for HL; implied torture, abuse, and non-con in the past

**Pairings**: Peter/Elizabeth, pre-OT3 thoughts, Methos/Neal, past-OMC/Neal

**Rating**: PG13

**Wordcount**: 1595

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: fence

* * *

Neal has been irritable for weeks. His voice has become sharper and sharper, his tone so biting it borders on cruel. He's infuriated Diana, annoyed Jones, and Peter constantly wants to smack him. With a sledgehammer.

It is not a good situation, and when Peter talked to June, he learned that even she has been bothered by Neal's attitude.

Peter's asked Neal more than once what's going on. It's clear that Neal _wants_ to tell him, and Peter is getting tired of being in the dark.

Neal is his responsibility, his friend—simply, Neal is _his_, and Neal's not letting him do his job and take care of the problem.

Well, no more. Peter has told Hughes to only call for the direst of emergencies, he's let Elizabeth know he'll be busy this weekend, and he's going to lock the door to Neal's loft.

This weekend, Neal _will_ tell Peter what's wrong, even if Peter has to tie him down and sit on him.

_Oh, Peter_, he winces. _Bad thought. Can't do that without El_. They have an agreement.

Anyway, he has a foolproof plan.

o0o

Everything goes wrong. There's a man in Neal's loft, a brute of a man who yells at Neal in a language Peter doesn't know. Neal yells back, stepping in front of Peter like he's some kind of fighter, and the man growls something before stalking out.

Neal glares at Peter, demands he leaves, and then ignores him when Peter demands answers instead.

"Neal!" Peter finally hollers. "Is that guy the reason you've been so—" He can't think of an appropriate word that won't make the situation worse.

Neal shakes his head. "I can handle him, Peter." He flashes an approximation of his grin. "Don't worry."

o0o

The watch a movie. Peter falls asleep. He wakes to an empty apartment. By the time he's grabbed his jacket and pulled out his phone to call up his Neal-map, Neal has opened the door.

Peter drops the phone because Neal's shirt is sliced to pieces and he's covered in blood.

"Shit," Neal says. "I…" He wavers in place. "Something's wrong, Peter." He sounds so young. "I want Adamas."

Peter lunges forward to catch him and carefully lifts him, settles him on the bed. He gently pulls off Neal's shirt—for all the blood, Neal doesn't have a single wound. Not even a bruise.

He should call his boss, or Elizabeth, or June. He calls Havisham.

"Do you know anyone named Adamas?" he demands. "Neal mentioned wanting him before passing out."

"Oh, fuck," Havisham says. "That's… that's very bad, Suit."

Peter's panic ratchets up a notch. "Should I call a bus or take him to the hospital?"

"No!" Havisham yelps. "That'll only make things worse. I'll be over soon."

"Havisham," Peter asks. "What about Adamas?"

Silence for a moment before Havisham sighs. "I can't… I'll leave a message." His voice tightens when he says, "Take care of Neal 'til I get there."

o0o

Neal nearly wakes a few times, mumbling. The only word Peter recognizes is _Adamas_. By the time Havisham arrives, Peter's convinced himself to take Neal to the hospital.

"Calm down, Burke," Havisham says. "Don't make me slap you."

The shock of hearing Havisham say his name snaps Peter out of his panic.

"Good," Havisham says. "Now, tell me _everything_ Neal said or did today."

o0o

Neal wakes with the dawn. He shifts on the bed, stretching, and grins at Peter as he sits up.

Then he sees Havisham and the grin falls off his face. "What happened?" he asks.

Havisham keeps silent, so Peter replies, "I have no idea." He pauses, but Neal just stares at him with those brilliant blue eyes. "Who is Adamas, Neal?" Peter asks, his voice gentle. Whatever is going on, he's pretty sure it's not Neal's fault. Somewhat sure.

Neal blanches and his eyes shoot to Havisham.

"You begged for him," Havisham says. "All night long. And his name was the last thing you said before collapsing in the Suit's arms."

Neal falls backwards onto the bed and covers his face.

o0o

Peter fixes breakfast while Havisham and Neal don't talk. He tries to remember anything he ever learned or supposed about Neal Caffrey. Most of the guesses were wrong, but some had been right.

None help now. Peter decides to let it go for the moment, while they eat, but no one is leaving the loft until he knows.

o0o

Neal is in the shower when a knock comes at the door. Peter shares a look with Havisham before moving to answer it.

He doesn't know the man standing there—Peter's height, shaggy dark hair, pale skin, and a very proud nose. But Havisham says, "Ben!" in a tone Peter recognizes: excited, happy, _relieved_.

"You called me, Marcus," Ben replies. His accent is a perfect replica of Havisham's.

Peter backs up, out of the way. Ben smiles at him.

"Adamas!" Neal yells, running out of the bathroom in only his pants, hair still dripping. He looks young again. Ben-Adamas catches him and pulls him close, fingers biting into the smooth skin of his back, tangling in his hair as he cups Neal's skull.

And, surprise surprise, they're muttering in a language Peter has never heard before. Or heard of, since he usually _recognizes_ a language, even if he has no idea what the words mean.

He'll give them a minute before demanding answers, but he will be demanding answers.

o0o

"Peter," Neal finally says, setting on the couch and pulling Ben-Adamas with him. "What I'm about to tell you, you can't ever use it against me, okay?" He's solemn, eyes sincere. "It'll be a deal-breaker, Peter. I'll leave and never come back."

While Peter thinks about that, Neal continues, "Swear on your love for Elizabeth."

"Neal," he says. "You know I can't make that promise."

"Agent Burke," Ben-Adamas cuts in, and now his voice is as smooth as Neal's during his best cons, warm as honey. "Anything Neal tells you, he is not to blame for. All of it was my fault, and I'll accept the consequences." He pauses while Havisham splutters and Neal turns to him with wide eyes. "However," he adds, voice now hard and unyielding as a blade, "the statute of limitations has long since passed. And all of it was self-defense or defense of another."

Peter watches as Neal's hand grabs Ben-Adamas' shirt and clenches, and Ben-Adamas just keeps going, ignoring everything in the room except Peter's gaze.

"I offered to take Neal away from here, Agent Burke."

Peter's breath catches and he bites in a denial.

Ben-Adamas continues, "Give him time to rest, time to heal. He defeated a monster from his past, something I should have dealt with a long time ago." Neal leans into him and Ben-Adamas presses a quick kiss to his temple.

"Promise, Peter," Neal whispers. "Please."

"I swear, Neal," Peter says firmly. "Everything I hear today, from you, Havisham, and whoever he is, will be off the record. Full immunity." Whatever it is… if it'll get that look off Neal's face, he's willing to let it go.

Neal's relief is painful to see and Ben-Adamas gently unclenches Neal's fingers from his shirt only to thread them with his own.

"I had a gang, once," Ben-Adamas says. "I was second-in-command, but I made all the plans." He still hasn't looked away from Peter. "We found a boy once. A pretty little thing. Had more potential than I'd seen in a long time."

"But you—" Peter stops, looking at Ben-Adamas' smile.

"I'm older than my appearance would lead you to believe," he says, voice silky and dark. "My brother, our leader—he wanted the boy, but I claimed him. I kept him and taught him, and then, when I was thoroughly impressed by one of the cretins licking at my heels, I gave the boy to him as a reward. And when the cretin mistreated him, I took him back."

Peter flinches. Neal closes his eyes, and Havisham says, "You… you just gave him to someone else?" Peter swiftly glances at him; Havisham looks—horrified. And betrayed.

Ben-Adamas ignores him, still looking at Peter. "Some people hold grudges, Agent Burke. You understand, I'm sure. I killed a man once for hurting something I cared for. And that man's brother came for vengeance, _long_ after the fact, and Neal defended himself." Without looking away from Peter, he shifts his body, pulling Neal almost all the way into his lap, wrapping his arms around Neal.

"I—I understand," Peter says. He glances at Havisham again, who clearly knows more than him—and just as clearly won't tell him. "I'll see you on Monday, Neal," Peter says quietly.

He turns to go, but then pauses, looks back, and says, "Please don't vanish."

If Ben-Adamas spirited him away, Peter knows, certain beyond doubt, he'd never find Neal again.

Neal smiles at him. Not as bright as his usual, but still _real_. "I'll see you on Monday, Peter," he says, warm as the sky on a summer day.

o0o

At home, Peter holds Elizabeth tight, face pressed into her neck. "It's alright, hon, I promise," she says, rubbing his back. "Whatever's wrong, it'll be alright."

Peter wants to demand answers, to slam Ben-Adamas into a wall and shoot him in the face, to make him say everything he and his gang had done to Neal.

But as long as Neal is still in New York on Monday… Peter will let it go.

As long as Neal is still in New York on Monday.


	55. the daylight is lit

**Title**: the daylight is lit with more volatile light

**Fandom**: White Collar/X-Men

**Disclaimer** : not my characters; title from Whitman

**Warnings**: somewhat AU

**Pairings**: pre-Neal/Peter

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 320

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar/X-Men; Neal, Peter, Any; Neal's a mutant.

**Notes**: I've been reliably informed Neal's power is impossible. *shrugs*

* * *

There's a criminal. And there's an FBI Special Agent. And over there, in a fabulous hat, is another criminal who helps the FBI catch bad guys.

The first criminal has a gun pointed at the second. The FBI Special Agent sets his at his feet and puts his hands on his head, following the orders of a man who won't hesitate to kill.

The first criminal and the FBI Special Agent are human. They are only dangerous with a weapon in hand or sufficiently pissed off and within reach of their target.

The second criminal... he's a bit different.

It's not even that cool of a power. Some mutants can change their shape or fly or move quicker than light. Professor X, he can read and control minds. Uncle Erik can control metal, which is much more handy than anyone realizes. He and Neal had spent an entire afternoon detailing what controlling metal can _actually_mean. It's scary, when thought about for too long.

The criminal (Carl Gregor, owes serious money, conned it out of retirees, has killed before and is totally okay with doing it again) licks his lips and jerks around to shoot Peter.

And _that_. Well.

Gregor pulls the trigger. Neal focuses on the gun, on the energy about to explode of it, and makes it _stop_.

The gun explodes. Gregor will be lucky to keep his arm, but his wrist and hand are completely destroyed, and shards may be in his chest, neck, and face. (A few may have gone into his eyes. Neal totally didn't tell them to.)

Uncle Erik can control metal. And during that afternoon discussion, they may have talked about a bit more than Uncle Erik's potential strength.

Peter fusses over Neal for a second, then checks on Gregor. Neal thinks about the energy in Gregor's heart, and then decides to let him keep breathing.

He didn't actually hurt Peter, after all.


	56. Remembered, if outlived

**Title**: Remembered, if outlived

**Fandom**: White Collar/Highlander

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Dickinson

**Warnings**: pre-series for White Collar; implied past child abuse

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 410

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: immortal

* * *

As a kid, the boy who would be Neal Caffrey wanted what all kids want: to live forever. Barring that, he wanted to be remembered. It didn't matter for what.

A man calling himself Matthew picked Neal up one winter night. "You have potential," Matthew told him. "You'll be great."

Neal expected to be put to work, either his mouth or his ass, but Matthew signed him up for school and taught him about culture and took him fun places like art galleries and museums.

In the six years Neal spent with him, Matthew never changed. He was always firm, but neither kind nor gentle. He always expected the best, so that's what Neal gave him. Neal learned to fight with blades and his fists, and to fire and care for guns. He leaned all the tricks of forgery and confidence schemes.

When Neal was thirteen, he witnessed a duel between Matthew and a very angry woman. The woman—_Cassandra_, Matthew called her—screamed horrible things, but it wasn't until she said, _I'll take the boy and teach him the truth about you_, that Matthew quit playing with her.

Matthew held his sword with one hand and pulled a gun with the other. He shot Cassandra between the eyes and watched emotionlessly as she fell. Once she was down, Matthew swung the sword, taking her head.

Neal couldn't look away. Matthew hid the weapons, swiftly moving to Neal, and pulled him close, led him to safety.

That night, Matthew explained about immortals and rules and forever. Neal wasn't one, he said, but Neal had caught his attention, a smartass kid, and he had to take Neal under his wing.

Matthew never told Neal how old he was. But Neal learned three martial arts, seven languages, and tricks that not even Mozzie would know when they met.

Neal left when he was sixteen, with the promise to call if he ever found too much trouble to handle. Matthew said he'd check in now and again, and that Neal would one day be a legend.

As a boy, Neal had imagined living forever. But all he really wanted was to be remembered.

Matthew would remember him. As long as he lived, Matthew would remember the scared, angry kid he took in, and the greatness he saw in the kid's blue eyes.

Neal'd never know how old Matthew was, but he was sure that if anyone could live forever, Matthew would.


	57. may my heart's truth still be sung

**Title**: may my heart's truth still be sung

**Fandom**: Highlander/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Dylan Thomas

**Warnings**: AU

**Pairings**: pre-Neal/Peter

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 200

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Highlander/White Collar, Neal, Methos, Peter, somehow regaining Peter's trust has been harder than it was with Methos

* * *

Neal sits on Peter's front-porch, leaning against the door. El told him it'd be awhile; Peter's still too furious to even look at him.

It wasn't like the bullet did much damage, and he played it off as it not having even hit him. There's no reason for Peter to be so angry.

Methos had never been this difficult. Methos had taught him to survive, at any price, and hadn't expected anything but a head's-up if he ever decided to go hunting. Not that Methos would be an option, if he did; he preferred easy prey. Methos knew all his tricks, and Neal was smart enough to realize the Old Man hadn't shared half of his.

Neal had loved Methos. He can own up to that now, decades after the fact. Methos knew it, too; said that all students hero-worship their teachers for a time. Just until the glow wears off.

But Neal _loves _Peter. Enough to stay. Enough to endanger his own safety. Enough to sit on the porch and wait for Peter to let him back in.

He sighs. Methos would have only one question: _is he worth it, child?_

And yeah. Peter really is. Neal can wait.


	58. I saw pale kings, flipside

**Title**: I saw pale kings, and princes too

**Fandom**: Chuck/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Keats

**Warnings**: AU

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 330

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Notes**: the flipside of chapter 30

* * *

Bryce has an identical twin. (_An evil twin_, Bryce laughs, and Neal cuffs him across the back of his head.)

This is _so cool_. Casey spends the whole mission grumbling under his breath, and Sarah is sternly professional, no matter how Neal flirts (with her, and Casey, and Chuck, and the barista, and the parking lot attendant, and honestly, _everyone ever_), and they speak in a made-up language, and Agent Burke just sighs long-sufferingly because Bryce with an _identical twin_ boggles the mind.

Neal is a thief. And a con-artist. And a forger. And so smooth he makes Bryce look like an amateur, which, dude, wow. That's skills.

If they talk about their childhood, it's where nobody can hear. Or in that language no one else in the whole world knows. Chuck stills knows as much as he ever did about Bryce before Stanford, which is all of nothing. Casey and Sarah don't seem to know much more, or Agent Burke, but Mrs. Burke (_Call me El, sweetie_) makes up stories with him.

(Bryce and Neal are the sons of rival assassins, or descended from royalty, or were special agents assigned to kill each other, or a government experiment that turned on its maker. Neal laughs when they walk in. Bryce grins.)

The mission is over all too soon. Neal promises to keep in contact, but Chuck knows he won't. Bryce says he'll check up, make sure his little brother isn't getting into too much trouble.

Agent Burke thanks Casey and Sarah for their help, tells Chuck to keep an eye on Neal's evil twin, and orders Neal to return Chuck's wallet.

Neal's grin is innocent, _who, me?_ Bryce laughs, handing Chuck his wallet with an identical grin.

"Gettin' out of practice, lil'brother," Bryce says.

"I let you," Neal responds, flipping his hat onto his head.

Chuck has no idea which is lying, and Casey drags him out of the building, Bryce sauntering smoothly in their wake.


	59. the alliance of the ages

**Title**: the alliance of the ages

**Fandom**: Inception/White Collar/Highlander

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 235

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Inception/White Collar/Red/Highlander, Arthur + Neal as Frank's fraternal twin sons, the day they find out that Arthur and Neal are both immortal

* * *

Arthur died first, though neither of them knew it. His first death, at twenty-two, involved falling down a flight of stairs and landing wrong, snapping his neck. He woke up twelve hours later with no one the wiser, and he thought he'd only been knocked unconscious.

Neal died four months later, when one of his marks got the better of him. When he woke up, he figured he'd hit his head dodging bullets; he always hated guns after that.

Arthur and Neal didn't see each other for the better part of eight years, and when they met up again, they'd both been taught the basics. They each guessed when they actually died; both of their guesses were wrong, but no one would ever know.

When Arthur felt the approaching immortal, he moved to place his back against the wall and had his hand on his gun; he could play fair, he often chose not to.

Neal, meanwhile, acted carefree, waltzing through the airport like he owned the entire continent. Most of his kind, he'd learned, couldn't tell where the buzz came from. In the crowded building, no one would be able to pinpoint it as him.

When they saw each other, they knew. Once getting past the shock of realizing their twin had died without them knowing, both were ecstatic, because, if they played their cards right, they'd never have to die again.


	60. where skin could lie on skin

**Title**: where skin could lie on skin

**Fandom**: Chuck/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Adrienne Rich

**Warnings**: AU; inferred incest

**Pairings**: Bryce/Chuck/Neal; Bryce/Chuck; Neal/Chuck; Peter/Neal/Elizabeth; Peter/Elizabeth

**Rating**: PG13

**Wordcount**: 300

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Chuck/White Collar, Chuck/Bryce + Chuck/Neal, "I thought you knew!" "Why would I crawl into bed with you if I knew you weren't your brother?" "I thought Bryce would be okay with it." "Oh God."

* * *

Chuck doesn't realize anything is wrong until the next morning, when Bryce is in bed next to him _and _smirking at him from the doorway.

Crap. One of them is not Bryce.

"Hey, Chuck," the maybe-Bryce next to him says. "I think we've been found out."

Okay, so that one's Neal.

"Neal, we've talked about this," Bryce says. "You don't seduce my lovers, I won't seduce yours."

Neal shrugs. "It was a cold night," he whines. "Peter and El are at a family reunion." He pouts. "I'm not family yet."

Bryce rolls his eyes. "How long will they be gone?"

"The rest of the week," Neal says, trying to snuggle against Chuck. Chuck throws himself off the bed and falls onto the floor. Bryce chuckles while Neal peers over the edge.

"Fine," Bryce says, walking around the bed to offer Chuck a hand. "If you get cold again, you can share our bed."

"He can?" Chuck asks at the same time Neal cheers.

"Think about it," Neal says, smiling at Chuck. It's a good smile. It looks like Bryce's smile right before... _oh_.

Right.

Chuck blinks.

Bryce and Neal look at him with the _same_smile. Well, damn.

"Can... I..." He doesn't have enough moisture in his mouth to complete the sentence, but Bryce gently pushes him back onto the bed.

Neal says, "May I kiss him, Bryce?"

"Chuck," Bryce whispers, plastering himself to Chuck's back. "Can my little brother kiss you?"

Chuck nearly pulls a muscle nodding. Neal surges forward, claiming his mouth, while Bryce nibbles at his neck.

This is like every fantasy he's had since he learned Bryce had an identical (criminal) twin.

Apparently, they _can _seduce together. Good to know.

"Stop thinking," Bryce murmurs.

Chuck turns his brain off and goes with it.


	61. the death which one day will deprive you

**Title**: the death which one day will deprive you of me

**Fandom**: Highlander/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Lord Byron

**Warnings**: character death; future!fic

**Pairings**: Peter/Elizabeth

**Rating**: PG13

**Wordcount**: 240

**Point****of****view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar, Neal[/any], _five __years __in __the __wrong, __I __am __assured, __my __name __to __you __is __just __another __word_

* * *

From the balcony, Neal watches the sun cross the sky and sink below the horizon. He hasn't moved all day. No one is looking for him; they have bigger fish to fry.

Not that they'll find what they're looking for. It's in pieces, scattered far and wide.

Neal's phone is dangling from his fingers. Hughes called earlier. Jones, Diana. Moz is still in hiding, and June is with Elizabeth at the hospital. The doctor said El should wake up soon. But she'll wake up to a world gone mad, a world without Peter.

No world should be without Peter.

The sun sets. Neal dials a number only three people in the world have.

"What do you need?" his teacher, his master asks.

"I need to rest," he answers, eyes squeezed shut to keep in the grief trying to swallow him.

"Come home, child," his brother, his father says. "I'll meet you at the station."

"Thank you," he breathes, dropping the phone.

0o0

In the morning, when Clinton goes to Neal's loft because Elizabeth is asking for him, the apartment is empty. Clinton has no idea if anything is missing. Neal's tracker is left on the coffee table.

Not much energy is spent looking for Neal.

The men who attacked Peter and Elizabeth are found, eventually. Not all of them, though; a skull here, a thigh there, assorted ribs somewhere else.

Diana and Clinton have their suspicions, but the case is never solved.


	62. Summer sun was on their wings

**Title**: Summer sun was on their wings, winter in their cry

**Fandom**: White Collar/Inception

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Rachel Field

**Warnings**: AU for both fandoms; dark; mentions of child abuse and non-con

**Pairings**: Arthur/Eames

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 560

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar, Neal, they really shouldn't underestimate him

* * *

Neal Caffrey is a pretty-boy. Neal Caffrey is a thief who wouldn't know what to do with a gun if his life depended on it. Neal Caffrey is the FBI's bitch, and tricked his way out of prison on his knees.

Neal Caffrey is a gorgeous mask, and the pay-off will be _glorious_.

.

"How much longer? You know the Boss hates waitin'."

Neal smiles at his contact, holding out the tiniest of disk drives. "Your Boss'll wait for _me_, Porter."

Porter glares and his fingers close into a fist, but he takes the drive.

Neal's off limits to everyone.

.

Mozzie asks him, "What's the angle here?"

Elizabeth invites him to dinner.

Peter trusts him with confidential information, his house, his dog, his wife, and his life.

.

"If I granted you one request," the Boss muses, watching Neal strip and clean their favorite gun, "you'd ask for the Burkes to be left alive."

"And unhurt," Neal clarifies. "June too, if I could get that."

The Boss nods. "Done."

.

Neal Caffrey dies in a shootout, shielding one of his team members. He gets a hero's funeral.

Peter and Elizabeth Burke cry in each other's arms for days.

.

"You ready?" the Boss asks. "You've been out of the game for awhile."

"C'mon, _Arthur_," one of the best undercover men in the world says. "You need better people at your side."

"Hey, now," the Boss's lover and right-hand exclaims. "I'll have you know, I take wonderful care of 'im."

"Eames," the Boss says.

He subsides, glaring, and the Boss asks, "What name would you like now?"

Smirking at Eames, he says, "Nathaniel, I think."

The Boss nods.

.

Nathaniel Calton is one of the greatest assassins in the world. It doesn't matter what the job calls for; he excels. The Boss trusts him, and everyone is too afraid to ask why.

.

_"What should we be when we grow up?" Noah asks Aidan, as they're curled up together beneath the covers, all of seven and shivering. Daddy is still throwing things downstairs. Mama's gone again._

_"I'm gonna rule the world and make sure no one hurts us ever again," Aidan says, listening to his brother breathe. "And you're gonna be my secret weapon."_

_"That sounds nice," Noah whispers, hissing in pain when Aidan accidentally shifts his arm._

_"It'll happen," Aidan promises. "I swear."_

_His twin nods. "It will."_

.

The Boss says, "Well done, lil'brother."

He nods, grins, and offers the Boss his knife, so the Boss can take out his own pound of flesh.

Eames mutters, "Darling, this should _not _be as hot as it is," and he gets identical, blood-soaked smiles in response.

The traitor screams louder and louder, until the Boss finally shuts him up with a cleverly-turned slice.

.

No one knows where the Boss came from. His lover, a forger and con-man called Eames, was small-time until the Boss took a liking to him. (He's actually ex-military, and just as dangerous as the Boss, but only a handful of people in the world know that, so keep it to yourself.) And the Boss's favorite assassin, well.

A few of the more trusted lieutenants notice that the Boss and his pet killer have the same grace, the same turn of phrase, the same grin when they kill. But they never mention it, so the Boss and Nathaniel let them live.

(For now.)


	63. for this I will not pay

**Title**: this is my day and I, for this I will not pay

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Adrienne Rich

**Warnings**: AU for Neal's backstory; violence

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 400

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar, Neal + Peter, Neal may trust him, but he hardly ever lets him see behind the mask.

* * *

Neal is angry all the time. He has been for years, and sometimes, all he wants to do is grab the nearest knife and gut someone. He's refrained, though. Otherwise, he'd either be dead or on the run, looking over his shoulder all the time.

Peter thinks Neal is a gentleman thief. El, June, Diana, Jones - they all think he's charming, and a better than decent guy. The FBI thinks Neal's useful, except for those who think once a thief, always a thief, and the only place for thieves is prison.

Neal's been angry since he was a child. It's not that he was beaten. It's not that he was neglected. His father was a smalltime crook, and his mother a bankteller (and, yes, there's irony there somewhere, but Neal doesn't care anymore), and Neal coasted through school, well-liked and firmly entrenched in the middle of his class. Neal made sure no one ever saw his true self, carefully giving everyone the same mask: all-American nice boy. Athletic, popular – charming. So _very _charming.

Neal's been charming just as long as he's been angry.

Painting is not his passion. He's good at it, of course. He's good at everything. When his mother told him he could do anything he wanted, it was the truth. If he hadn't held back, school wouldn't have taken long at all.

Conning is not his passion, either.

(When Neal was fourteen, a senior at his school went missing, written off as a runaway.)

Stealing things is fun, but it's all so easy, there's hardly any reason to anymore.

(When Neal was eighteen, a young couple from his class went missing. It was decided they ran off together.)

Forging was diverting at first, but after a year, it was no longer a challenge.

(When Neal was in prison, the biggest, meanest topdog died. Consensus: accidental food poisoning.)

Peter doesn't think Neal is harmless; Neal's a convicted felon, after all.

But Peter does think Neal is a gentleman.

Peter doesn't know what Neal does when the rage gets to be too much, how he learned to trick the anklet within the first week, or just how many people go missing in New York a day.

Neal doesn't let the anger control him. He uses it. The anger hones him into something sharp, something dangerous, and maybe one day, Peter will learn what Neal's _true_ passion is.


	64. These children of the sun

**Title**: These children of the sun

**Fandom**: Chuck/Inception/White Collar

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from John Clare

**Warnings**: AU for White Collar; mentions of character death

**Pairings**: Arthur/Eames, past Bryce/Chuck, implied Neal/Peter

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 450

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Chuck/Inception/White Collar, Chuck + Arthur, (Arthur and Bryce!Neal are brothers) Arthur doesn't know anything about Chuck except that Bryce/Neal fell in love with him in college, he's a spy like Arthur's brother, and he was there when Bryce/Neal died. Arthur tracks him down but their meeting doesn't go like Arthur expected.

* * *

Arthur gives out his notice responsibly before disappearing: he lets everyone know he'll be out of contact for at least a month, and won't even be accepting calls for emergencies. He's taking personal time, and _will not be bothered_, and that includes Eames.

(Eames doesn't care about that. He shadows Arthur, and Arthur knows it.)

Arthur used to be named Aidan, and his brother is missing-presumed-dead. Brendan-became-Bryce-became-Neal-went-back-to-being-Bryce and fucking _died_, and Arthur wants to know why. He _needs _to know why.

And Chuck, that silly little boy Bryce fell in love with and Neal couldn't forget, was there. He was _there _when Brendan died, and Arthur will learn everything he knows, no matter what it takes.

Brendan wouldn't want Chuck to come to harm, but Brendan's fucking _dead_, so he gets no say at all.

.

Chuck's a spy, like Bryce. He's also a geek, and a dork, and so _nice_it burns. Arthur's not used to nice. (Also, he can hear Eames laughing.)

Chuck's earnest, and after he stares at Arthur for a long, awkward moment (and the gun Arthur's holding), he slumps down, and he says, "I am so sorry," and the damnedest thing is, Arthur believes him.

.

So, Chuck is actually a spy with a computer in his head (Bryce's fault) and he knows far too many things about Arthur for Arthur to be comfortable with. But he won't use the information against Arthur, because (for some insane reason) he thinks Arthur's a good guy. (Eames is laughing again.)

"He talked about you, sometimes," Chuck tells him. "He missed you."

Arthur says nothing, but his hand is not on his gun.

.

When Chuck's keepers come to his rescue (Arthur is not impressed, and Eames makes half a dozen snarky remarks before they've even cleared LA), Arthur is long gone.

He doesn't have his brother's body, but he knows exactly how and why Brendan died.

Chuck is still alive, because it would've have made Brendan's death worthless if he wasn't.

.

Arthur finishes out his month of vacation in New York. Burke is completely different from Chuck, but Arthur likes him a bit more, and Eames has fun finding and replacing his favorite pieces at the Met.

Finally, as the month draws to a close, Eames pulls Arthur into his arms and asks softly, "Will you tell me about him?"

Aidan and Brendan are both dead. But Arthur almost sees them, young and fierce and strong, as he tells Eames things no one has ever heard before.

.

(Casey is annoyed, and Sarah furious, but Chuck never does explain what happened in those four hours he was off-grid.

He's alive. Because he knew Bryce so well, he knows what that means.)


	65. each dewdrop mirrored a star

**Title**: each dewdrop mirrored a star, his riding star, his universe while on the moonlit flowers at his side Pegasus grazed

**Fandom**: White Collar/Percy Jackson movieverse

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from C. Day-Lewis.

**Warnings**: AU for both

**Pairings**: Neal!Percy/Luke

**Rating**: PG13

**Wordcount**: 560

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: White Collar/Percy Jackson, Neal(Percy)+All, If you didn't already know who Percy's father was, you'd swear he was actually the son of Herme's, instead he's just a criminal.

* * *

Luke laughs about it every time he visits. He just pops in, takes over Neal's space, and makes snarky comments about fathers, fates, and food.

Neal just rolls his eyes, tells Luke he knows where the fridge is, and pushes Luke's feet off the couch.

He never tells Luke to go, though. They talk about the old days, if Neal has the time, and usually, Neal will pull Luke towards the bed, because he realized in hindsight why he felt so completely disappointed when he learned Luke was the lightning thief.

Also in hindsight, he realized that if he'd had a little while longer to think everything over, he'd have been right there beside Luke, staring down Olympus.

If Dad knows what Neal is doing, he hasn't let on to Neal.

"You know," Luke says, shifting Neal around on the bed, making himself comfortable and ignoring Neal's half-hearted glare, "Annabeth asked me the other day what you were doing."

"What did you tell her?" Neal asks, shoving Luke over and stretching out against him, resting his ear on Luke's heartbeat.

"I told her you were makin' a name for yourself, and one day, you'd outshine us all," Luke murmurs, pressing a kiss to Neal's forehead.

Neal's almost asleep, listening to the lullaby of Luke's heart (it sounds like the tide, in and out, in and out), when he hears Luke whisper, "Sometimes I miss that earnest kid. You were so bright." He squeezes Neal just a little tighter, when he adds, even softer, "Now you're blindin', Percy. Sometimes it hurts my eyes just to look at you."

When Neal wakes up, Luke's gone and his phone is ringing: Peter, calling about _The Cattle of Apollon_, a painting that vanished overnight. "Seriously, Son of Hermes?" he asks, dropping his phone after hanging up.

He's still chuckling when he meets Peter at the art gallery, and he nearly breaks something trying not to howl with laughter when he sees the painting next to the empty space: _The Procession of the Trojan Horse in Troy_, with a post-it stuck to it, the words _ride the lightning _scrawled on it.

"What the hell?" Peter demands. When he turns to look at Neal, Neal shrugs.

They never do find that painting, or figure out who the message was for, much less what it meant.

But three nights later, when lightning is flashing across the sky, Neal stands on his balcony and imagines he can hear voices in the storm, if he just listens hard enough.

He was a hero, once. Now he's nearly a hero again, a thief caught and bound, helping to catch other thieves, lesser thieves.

_And I if asked you for help, Son of Poseidon? _he can hear Luke ask, like he did the first time he found Neal, a mere month after Percy ceased to be.

_If you asked and meant it?_ Neal asked in reply that night, pushing Luke back onto the bed and straddling him. _I'd help you_.

Neal closes his eyes as the thunder growls, wind howling. He flew in a storm like this, once. When he was young and confused and held stolen lightning in his trembling hand.

But he's grown up now. He's learned. And he won't steal lightning again, but he knows that Luke has _something_ planned, and eventually they'll steal the world.


	66. goodness is no name

Title: goodness is no name, and happiness no dream

Fandom: White Collar/Inception(/Rock n Rolla)

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Byron

Warnings: mentions of bad things happening to children; some violence; AU for Neal's backstory; possibly a threesome

Pairings: Arthur/Eames (+ Neal)

Rating: PG13

Point of view: third

Wordcount: 850

Prompt: any, any, Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.

* * *

Neal Caffrey can blend in anywhere. He can pull on accents like they're hats, he can laugh with strangers, he can insert himself into a party and it's like he's never been gone.

Back when he was a thief, he had contacts, friends, allies. Moz, and Kate, Alex - and even Vincent.

Now that he catches thieves, he has Peter and El, June, Diana and Jones and even Hughes. Various and sundry FBI agents who like him as a person, even if they hate what he used to do.

(Oh, he's not kidding anyone. He's still a thief. He'll always be a thief. He's not ashamed, and he's not sorry, no matter how much it will hurt Peter.

And it will. It'll hurt Peter _so much_.)

Neal is undercover for the FBI as an arms' dealer, and Peter wishes he wasn't because this isn't Peter's operation, this isn't at all white collar – these people are into extortion and human trafficking and killing. And Neal is wearing his Noah Lasik ID, even though the FBI gave him a different name and background, and it's different than that assassin he wore, with Sara.

Noah Lasik is someone Peter has never met. The FBI has never seen. He's dark and cruel; he's dangerous and electrifying. He's killed eighteen people in five countries. Neal slides into Noah like he never left, and he meets Peter's eyes with a smirk.

It all goes swimmingly until Noah's introduced to Daniel Robertson, and Robertson gets too close, and Robertson stays in his space, and Noah's new boss really takes offense to that (Noah isn't sure if he's jealous of them, or which one he'd be jealous of), but either way, it results in a shoot-out and when the smoke clears, Robertson is still at his back and everyone else is dead.

Noah mutters, "Shit."

His brother's boyfriend (lover? partner? – whatever) _Eames _laughs.

(Noah is not the name he was given at birth. He has no idea what it was. His brother wasn't born _Arthur_ either. Neal is one of his favorite names; back when he was Noah, oceans of blood ago, Arthur went by _Aiden_.

And, no. No records connect them at all. Keep looking.)

There is no going back, not after so many men died. Neal can't brush it under the carpet and bluff his way out. Peter can't ignore it.

The smoke clears, and Noah Lasik and Daniel Robertson are gone. Gone like they'd never been, except for the bodies littering the ground and a single line of text on a scrap of paper – _Goodbye, Peter. Give June and El a kiss from me_.

Peter uses everything at his disposal, but when he gets back to New York, Moz is gone, too.

If they ever catch Neal again, he'll be locked away for a long time.

They'll never catch Neal unless he lets them.

(Ned Lafferty saunters into his brother's apartment in Bordeaux, and his brother's Eames follows with a stolen bottle of wine in hand.

"Looking good, kid," Ned says, giving him a quick, strong hug.

"You, too," Arthur says, pulling back to look him over and make sure.)

Neal Caffrey never surfaces. Peter tries to forget him, and El and June have weekly lunches, and life moves on.

It isn't until the white collar unit widens to include dreamtheft that Peter even catches a glimpse of Neal – going by Nate Wesson, and teamed up with some of the best in the business.

Nate Wesson isn't someone Peter knows, doesn't even seem to be someone Peter would like. He's more similar to Noah Lasik than Neal Caffrey.

But Peter can dream.

(Noah and Aiden, they had been something else. Two kids who found each other on the streets, scared and scarred, bloodied and bruised.

Noah, with his pretty face; Aiden, with his clever hands. They shouldn't have survived. Sure as hell shouldn't have thrived.

But they grew up, and they grew strong, and nothing is beyond them now.)

Neal Caffrey didn't really have friends. He had acquaintances, and marks, and people indebted to him. He had a keeper. He had i_masters/i_, and Neal Caffrey really hated to be owned.

He hated being bound and shackled and caged. He was always leaving New York.

Peter can say whatever he wants, but he and Neal were never friends. And while he might suspect it, and forbid himself from crying about it. El in his arms and his face buried in her neck, Peter will never admit to anyone that he wonders.

(When they're alone, just the three of them, Nate and Arthur and Eames call each other names no one else knows – Noah, and Aiden, and Bobby.

None of them have friends, really. Friends come and go. So does family.

What they have is scars and blood and dreams, nightmares and so many dead.

What they have is forever, and nobody will ever take it away.

They sleep in each other's' arms, the three of them so close it's like they're one person, and tomorrow, Peter Burke will go through another file and wish he'd held on tighter.)


	67. secrets

Title: secrets

Fandom: Criminal Minds/White Collar

Warnings: implied murder

Pairings: Spencer Reid/Neal Caffrey

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 100

Point of view: third

Criminal Minds/White Collar, Spencer/Neal, discovering one another's darkest secrets

* * *

"You had to know I'd figure it out," Spencer says softly, dropping crime scene photos on the bed. "It's what I do."

Neal smiles, pulling a sketchbook out of a dresser drawer and flipping it open to a page squarely in the middle before dropping it on top of the photos. "Me, too," Neal says, equally softly.

Spencer studies the drawing; it fits the photos well, complementary in every way.

"What do we do?" he asks, glancing up to meet Neal's eyes.

Neal's smile darkens. "Team up, of course," he says, stepping around the bed to kiss Spencer fiercely on the lips.


	68. a beautiful face without a name

Title: a beautiful face without a name

Disclaimer: not my characters

Warnings: AUish

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 280

Point of view: third

Prompt: any, any, "truth" is in how and what you choose to present

* * *

Neal Caffrey is a gentleman thief who despises violence and the _common criminal_. Neal Caffrey is eloquent and elegant. Neal Caffrey can walk into a room and own it and everything in it. Neal Caffrey is charming and kind and doesn't actually hurt _people_.

Neal Caffrey, despite a few forays to the other side of the law, is a _good guy_. Most of the White Collar Unit in New York will swear to it.

Neal Caffrey wakes up every morning and just laughs.

.

Neal Caffrey is the best liar you'll ever meet, and you'll never know.

Everything about Neal Caffrey is a lie, and he's the only one who knows.

Neal Caffrey is not a kid from the wrong side of the tracks whose father was a bad man. He's not a kid who couldn't think of any other way out of a bad situation. He's not a kid who tricked his way to New York without ever graduating high-school and only attending college as someone else.

What Neal Caffrey is... well, that's up to you. What do you think he is?

Better question - _who _do you think he is?

Whoever your answer is, it's wrong.

.

The truth about Neal Caffrey is this: there is no truth. He's a mask. He's a mirror. He reflects back what you expect to see, so he can escape at any moment, go somewhere else, and become someone new.

Neal Caffrey is a not a gentleman thief.

... _Neal Caffrey _may be, but he wasn't always Neal Caffrey, was he?

.

Neal Caffrey is a mask for Peter Burke.

And when the mirror is tired of reflecting, it will walk away and find someone else.


	69. moonlight and mist caught in them

Title: moonlight and mist caught in them

Fandom: White Collar/Native American mythology

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Elizabeth Bishop

Warnings: AUish

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 245

Point of view: third

Prompt: White Collar, any, how to con a con

* * *

Neal believes every lie he's telling as he tells it. And since everything he says is a lie, everything he says is the truth.

That's the secret, Peter. That's the trick.

Do you see it now?

.

The first time Moz ever saw the kid who would be Neal, he watched him work a street-corner con like a pro.

The kid was good. The kid was _real _good.

So Moz swooped in and adopted him.

.

Moz taught Neal the name of the game. Neal rewrote the playbook.

.

Peter has come the closest to being able to tell when Neal is lying.

He doesn't see but a fourth of them, though, and those are the ones Neal _wants _him to see.

.

A coyote wanders up the sidewalk by June's house. Neal's anklet says he's in bed, but he's sitting on the stoop, smirking at the coyote.

"Hey, Dad," Neal says, and vanishes. The coyote yips at the raven that swoops above him, chasing him down the street.

.

When Peter knocks on the door the next morning, Neal lets him in.

Everything he says that day is a lie.

Everything he says that day is the truth.

For Neal, they're the same thing.

That's the secret. That's the trick.

His father is the coyote and his mother is the wind, and you'll only catch him if he wants to be caught, and you'll only keep him if he wants to be kept.

Do you see it now?


	70. the calm warning of the evening star lef

Title: the calm warning of the evening star left to him

Fandom: White Collar/Chuck

Disclaimer: not my characters; one line paraphrased from _Skyfall; title from _Sean O'Casey

Warnings: AUish, mentions of violence, identity issues

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 445

Point of view: third

Prompt: White Collar / Chuck, Neal as Bryce, looking in the mirror, wondering what's his name today

* * *

Five days ago, his name was Chris.

Six days before that, he was Tommy.

Seven days before that, he was Elton.

Three months ago, he was Bryce Larkin.

.

Bryce Larkin was not a traitor. Bryce Larkin _was _a fool.

.

Today, he's Neal. A year ago, he was Neal. Two, three, four years ago - still Neal.

Neal's his favorite. Neal's suave and debonair, so gorgeous and slick. Neal's a charmer, that's for sure. Even the people who hate Neal just can't help but love him.

Look at Peter if you don't believe it.

.

Chris Watson is a sociology student.

Tommy Douglass is an art appraiser.

Elton Smythe is the only son of an oil tycoon.

Bryce Larkin was a government agent in love with computer geek.

And Neal… Neal's no more real than them. Neal's a ghost. A figment. A dream.

Neal isn't chained by anything but loyalty, and loyalty…

Well. Loyalty can be very fleeting.

.

Neal looks into the mirror. Chris and Tommy and Elton and Bryce all look back. Ghosts. Figments. Dreams.

He blinks and he's Neal.

Bryce Larkin has resurrected once before. He might again. Loyalty is his greatest weakness, after all.

Bryce Larkin wasn't his first life, but until Neal it was the longest.

Loyalty is a weakness.

He turns away from the mirror and grabs his hat on the way out the door.

.

Justin Contel is a gun-runner for the mafia trying to work his way up. He's stupid and reckless. Impressive, though, those moves he can pull out of a car. He's flashy and charming. So charming.

The sting goes south and there's no way Neal Caffrey could get out alive. It steals Peter's breath, heart in his throat, the thought that Neal would die inside while Peter's own team holds him back, shouting orders nobody listens to.

But staring into the barrel of a gun, Neal blinks and changes skins.

Neal Caffrey couldn't get out alive. Neither could Justin Contel.

But Bryce Larkin… his greatest weakness might be loyalty, but his greatest skill is resurrection.

.

The mafioso turned on his men, that's what Neal's report says.

No one sees Bryce Larkin, every few blinks, and no one questions his story. They're just too happy he survived.

.

Neal Caffrey is a ghost. A figment. A dream.

And like Bryce Larkin before him, one day he'll vanish like smoke in the night, gone as if it'd never been.

He looks into the mirror, blinking through all the names he's worn, and it gets harder to choose because it's time to move on.

… not quite yet.

Neal Caffrey flips on his hat, grins at the mirror, and saunters out.


	71. families of choice

Title: families of choice

Fandom: Glee/RED/White Collar/Inception

Disclaimer: not my characters

Warnings: mentions of bullying; AU

Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, implied unrequited Neal/Peter, Frank/Sarah, Burt/Carole, Victoria/Ivan

Rating: PG  
Wordcount: 198

Point of view: third

Prompt: Glee/R.E.D./White Collar/Inception, Burt and son(s) + Frank and sons (Neal and Arthur), They were "co-workers" when they were young, now they're neighbors; no one understands their style of parenting better than each other.

* * *

"Pour the tea," Kurt orders imperiously. Neal hides his grin and does. Arthur doesn't scowl, though Neal can tell he wants to.

The kid is just too cute, though.

.

Arthur wants to kick the asses of everyone at McKinley during Kurt's freshman year, and Neal wants to frame them for various horrific crimes, and Uncle Burt and Dad have both have to control each other so that McKinley doesn't catch fire and explode.

.

Neal and Arthur are both gone (to New York and the army) when things get really bad. Arthur's about to vanish into black ops and Neal's on the verge of something big, and Kurt doesn't call anyone for help, not his dad or Uncle Frank or Neal&Arthur.

He calls Blaine.

.

"That kid'a yours," Frank says at Thanksgiving, "he's a handful, Burt."

Burt snorts. "And those boys'a yours, Frank?" he chuckles.

Marvin, Victoria, and Joe laugh. Carole and Ivan are discussing music while Kurt (with Blaine beside him) lectures Sarah on the proper colors for her skintone. Arthur's impressing Finn and Sam with some of his training and Neal's subtly checking his phone to see if Moz is keeping eyes on Peter as promised.

Life's good.


	72. mask undone

Title: mask undone

Disclaimer: not my characters

Warnings: future!fic; AU

Pairings: Peter/Elizabeth

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 190

Point of view: third

Prompt: any, any,  
_You can fall for chains of silver, you can fall for chains of gold,  
You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold._

* * *

Neal is flashy and sharp, brilliant and remote. He's a smile and a laugh, bright eyes and glorious ideas. He's a thousand lies all wrapped up in pretty packaging, and the worst of it is that Peter _knows_ that. Has always known it.

And he still fell for it.

.

Neal is a thief. _Reformed, Peter, remember?_ he'd say, if he were here.

If he were here.

.

They all fell for it. The entirety of the office, June, Elizabeth, Mozzie, Peter.

It's those last two that keep surprising Peter.

.

_Self-fulfilling prophecies_, El whispers, to comfort herself. _All those agents, muttering about it being a con_.

Peter doesn't say, _But it **was** a con_.

.

Mozzie vanishes a day after Neal does. But first, he shows up at Peter's house and demands to know if Peter was in on it.

Peter wasn't. Neither was Mozzie.

.

Peter wonders, sometimes, while flipping through the file he'll never admit to having, what the plan was. What the endgame was. Years of Neal's life, four of them in prison… what was he doing? What did he get out of it?

Peter will never know.


	73. scenes of a life

Title: scenes of a life

Disclaimer: not my characters

Warnings: takes place sometime in season 3

Pairings: Peter/Elizabeth

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 185

Prompt: White Collar, Neal&Peter friendship, Neal realizes there's a picture of him and Peter on Peter's desk at work

* * *

It's in a simple wooden frame, squeezed in-between Peter and El's wedding picture and a 4x6 family portrait from Peter's teenage years. Peter's giving Neal that _how are you a real thing? _look and Neal's laughing, head thrown back and hand on Peter's arm.

Neither of them noticed when Elizabeth took it, but she gave it to Peter last Christmas, while Neal was sulking at June's loft because some pissy head honcho at the FBI shrunk his radius for a week that just happened to include Christmas Eve to New Year's Day.

(After opening one present each [which included the picture], Peter and Elizabeth shared a nod, got dressed, and headed to Neal.)

Neal didn't know about the picture. He didn't notice it for three days; it replaced a snapshot of Peter and Kramer, and that's what finally makes him _see _it: no more Kramer on Peter's desk. (Not that either of them realize, yet, what Kramer will do to them.)

Peter expects to be teased, when Neal notices. But Neal just blinks, and smiles, and doesn't get in trouble for the rest of the day.


	74. the dream was marvelous

Title: the dream was marvelous but the terror was great

Fandom: White Collar/Inception/RED

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Gilgamesh

Warnings: pre-canon for all three; mentions of blood/injury

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 410

Point of view: third

Prompt: any. any. First time in real trouble

* * *

Arthur is out of contact due to some sort of military hullaballoo, and Neal really doesn't want to call his dad. Dad's going to be disappointed - whether for the fuck up (which is imajor/i or for the criminality, Neal's not sure, but he is definitely going to be disappointed - but Neal has to call him.

His arm is burning, and still sluggishly bleeding, and Neal's tucked into a corner, phone in his hand, Dad's number keyed in, waiting for Neal to hit call.

He has to hit call. If he calls Arthur instead, Arthur's military career is shot (_shot_, hah) and Neal doesn't want to ruin his brother's life. Not any more than he did in high-school, when he got them both suspended for a week, or that time in junior high, when Arthur got a month's detention for beating the shit out of Drake Whitman for stealing Neal's sketchbook, or even back in elementary, when Arthur terrified the entire fourth grade into leaving Neal alone after his panic attack at the pep rally.

Arthur has always taken care of Neal, and what has Neal given him in return? Trouble. So much fucking trouble. Neal can't ruin his life anymore.

So he hits call and holds the phone up to his ear, and when Dad grouches into the phone, "Been a long time, kiddo," Neal mumbles, "Dad, I fucked up."

The words are slurred and his eyes keep slipping shut, and Dad barks, "Neal Francis Moses, you answer me, boy. Where are you?"

Neal tells him, as best he can remember, and then he says, "Dad, I'm cold."

"Don't worry, I got backup close to you, Neal," Dad tells him. "Just hold on, I'll be there soon."

"Let Artie know I'm sorry," Neal mutters, head thunking back against the wall. "I never meant to ruin 'is life."

"Neal!" Dad shouts, but Neal can't answer, can't open his eyes, can't –

.

Neal wakes up in a hospital under a name that isn't his, Dad slumped in the chair beside him and Arthur quietly threatening a doctor until the man runs from the room.

Arthur immediately focuses on Neal and Dad sits up, and after they've thoroughly chewed him out, Uncle Marvin and Auntie Tori slink in and have _their_ turns.

And after _that_, Arthur rests his forehead against Neal's and just breathes, and Neal cups the back of Arthur's head in his un-IV'd hand and holds on.


	75. like the sea in a jar

Title: like the sea in a jar

Fandom: White Collar/Leverage

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton

Warnings: AU for both fandoms, but not a lot. Just taking advantage of two characters with the same last name; mentions of violence; timelines that don't really mesh but I'm handwaving; implied unfaithfulness

Pairings: Eliot/Neal, mentions of Neal/Kate, Peter/Elizabeth, maybe some implied Peter/Neal

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 1080

Point of view: third

Prompt: White Collar/Burn Notice or Chuck or Leverage, any, Peter hates it when Neal's old friend comes to town

* * *

The first time Peter sees him, Neal has just said goodbye, kissed him, and waved as he walked away. The man was shorter than Neal but broader, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt. His hair, dark brown, was pulled back in a ponytail.

Peter didn't think anything of it, really. So long as Neal's personal life didn't affect the Bureau or their cases -

Okay, fine, he thought a lot about it. No need to be so smug, _Elizabeth._

_._

The second time, Peter saw the man's cold blue eyes and steely smirk as Neal shoved him towards the door, muttering, "Come back later, after work, you lug."

The man laughed, whiskey silk smooth and rough at the same time, and said, "Later, babe," kissing Neal on the lips quickly before sauntering down the stairs.

Peter knew that face from somewhere, but it slipped his mind when Neal got himself shot later that night.

.

Two days later, the goon who shot Neal before diving into a crowd of civilians to get away turned up on the Bureau's front step. Both his legs were broken, his hands duct-taped together, and the rest of him had been worked over professionally.

Peter thought a lot about it during Neal's recovery, but the mystery man didn't show his face again for months.

.

The third time, Peter was flipping through a list of known associates for Sofia Yelenez, a con woman who eclipsed even Neal, and saw the man's face glaring at him: Eliot Spencer, retrieval expert.

Of course, Peter pulled his file.

.

Peter stormed into Neal's loft without even knocking and demanded, "Did you know he was Damien Moreau's right hand!?"

Neal didn't even look up from his sketchbook. "Of course I did, Peter. I introduced them."

That… was not what he expected and his righteous anger deflated. "What?"

Neal did look up then, a small smile on his face. "You don't know everything about me, Peter, or who I was when I ran with him." He shrugged. "But that life is gone now." He focused back on his sketchbook and Peter gently closed the door behind him as he left.

.

The fourth time, Neal introduced them. "Eliot Donovan, my former keeper," he said grandly, "meet Peter Burke, my current keeper."

"Agent Burke," Eliot said, giving Peter a good handshake and not trying to break his hand. "Good to meet you, sir."

"You, too," Peter replied, not letting a single thing he felt show on his face or his body language.

Eliot smirked at him, though, and asked, "He tell you how we hooked up?"

Neal said, "That's not a story for polite company, Donny," grabbing him by the hand and tugging him away.

Neal managed to keep them separated for the rest of the night, all the while playing host for June's dinner party. And Eliot (Donny? Could that be his real name? Surely not… or maybe the name he used while Neal was – whatever Neal was.) just kept looking at Peter and smirking.

.

The fifth time, Sofia Yelenez and her entire team were in Neal's loft when Peter opened the door.

He didn't even try to arrest any of them, just sighed and turned around, saying, "I'll come back later, Neal. Try not to break any laws until then."

.

The sixth time, Eliot knocked on Peter's front door and Elizabeth let him in. Peter was immediately on his feet when he heard that voice drawl, "Thank you, ma'am." He scrambled for his gun, but it was safely locked away and he knew it'd be pointless, even if he had it. He'd need an entire SWAT team to take down Eliot Spencer, and even that might not be enough.

"Agent Burke," Eliot said. "I need a minute of your time."

"Is this…" El asked. "Should I go upstairs?"

Eliot shrugged. "I don't care if you hear, ma'am. It's about Neal." His lips twisted, like he couldn't decide if he should grimace or smile. "He was Noah Lafferty when we met, still just a kid who liked to draw." He paused, glancing away, at El, and then back at Peter. "He was boy trying to be a man, and he had a gift for pissing off the wrong people."

"Have a seat," Peter said, gesturing towards the armchair. "This sounds like it'll be long."

Nodding, Eliot said, "'bout ten years, give or take. Not consecutive, but that's about how long we were together, added up."

"He introduced you to Damien Moreau in those ten years?" Peter asked, pulling Elizabeth in close.

Eliot chuckled, but it didn't sound that mirthful. "Is that what the kid told you?" He shook his head. "I kept Damien from executing him when it came out that my stupid-ass partner was dating Damien's only daughter on the side."

"What," Peter said after a moment. "That couldn't - _what_?"

"If Damien hadn't been distracted by my team and then imprisoned by the people he'd been oppressing…" Eliot shrugged again. "When Katie died, New York would've been washed in blood." He looked down at his hands. "She was a good kid, but so much like her father. If I didn't let Neal make mistakes, though, he'd never learn."

Peter couldn't think of a thing to say.

"That's not why I'm here," Eliot said when the silence got too awkward.

"You mentioned something about Neal having a gift for making enemies," El said, squeezing Peter's hand.

Eliot nodded again. "My team and I have something in place to bring down the entire reason I ever met Neal. I'm offering you the chance to be the agent who brings the scumbag in."

"Tell me everything," Peter said.

.

The seventh time, Neal introduced Eliot's team, and Parker followed Elizabeth around like a duckling with Hardison trailing in their wake, and Sophie chatted with June about art, and Nate discussed cases with Peter.

"You happy, kid?" Eliot asked quietly, tapping the toe of his boot to Neal's ankle, where the tracking device was still whirring away.

"I am," Neal replied, smiling.


	76. first run

Title: first run

Fandom: White Collar/Inception

Disclaimer: not my characters

Warnings: none

Pairings: none

Rating: PG  
Wordcount: 95

Point of view: third

Prompt: any, any, so this is what you do for a living?

* * *

"So this is what you do for a living?" Neal asks, dodging another projection as they run down the hall.

"Yes, Neal," Arthur bites out, spinning around to spray the hall with bullets.

Neal flips over a projection, knifing it as he lands, and Arthur throws him a gun that he throws right back.

"Now isn't the time to be squeamish!" his brother shouts, adding, "Duck!"

Neal ducks, promising to not mock Arthur's criminal tendencies as being far too messy for... at least a week, once they're safely back in the real world .


End file.
